


Oh, the Humanities

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Because That's the Kind of Disaster Flynn Is, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Flynn Outrageously Flirts With Wyatt, Human Disaster Garcia Flynn, In Favor of Thinking He Will Never Be Good Enough for Her, M/M, Multi, Only Because We Have to Sort Through Copious Amounts of Backstory, Slow Burn, Their Poor Students, While Simultaneously Missing Lucy's Blatant 'Fuck Me' Comments, Who Decides Flynn Must Therefore Be Joking, Wyatt Logan is Submissive as Fuck, Wyatt Logan's Bisexuality Crisis, You Will Pry Gender Studies Professor Wyatt Logan From My Cold Dead Hands, eventual polyamory, semi-public smut, so much backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: At Rittenhouse College, Wyatt Logan is the laidback sports and gender studies professor. After working his ass off to get a degree and overcome the small-minded, toxic mindset he’d been raised with, he’s pretty sure he can handle whatever life decides to throw at him.So life decides to throw Lucy Preston, history, and Garcia Flynn, political science.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is a pun on “Oh, the humanity!” which was said about the Hindenburg disaster. No, I regret nothing.

_Present Day_

 

Wyatt kissed back hard as Flynn shoved him onto the desk, planting his hands on either side of Wyatt to get leverage and grind against him. Wyatt moaned and he felt another pair of hands, slim ones sliding up and over his shoulders.

“You have to be quiet,” Lucy whispered.

She grabbed Flynn and kissed him, and Wyatt turned his head to check that he’d actually locked the classroom door.

Jesus he was about to get fucked on his desk, in his classroom, in the middle of the day, by the two hottest people he’d ever met.

Nobody was ever going to believe this.

 

* * *

_Sixteen Years Ago – Lucy_

Lucy Preston threw more clothes into the suitcase. “Really, honey, this is being ridiculous,” Mom said.

Lucy ignored her, grabbing some books.

“Y’know,” Amy said from where she was leaning against the doorway, her arms folded, “most parents would be thrilled that their kid got accepted to a university in Europe.”

“You are enrolled in Stanford,” Carol Preston went on.

“No,” Lucy snapped, whirling around, her books clutched to her chest. “I never accepted it, you enrolled me. Without asking. Because you can’t stand my not being near you and under your thumb.”

She dumped the books into the suitcase. “I’m going to the school that I want to go to, and that’s final.”

“But… Lucy…”

“Don’t but me, Mom!” Lucy hated that she was crying, hated that she still felt so weak. “I want to go to Europe. That’s where I want to study. I’ve done nothing but study America this America that until I’m choking on it! I know American history! I want to expand myself, I want to explore!” Lucy snapped the suitcase shut. “And you can’t stop me!”

She shoved past Carol. Amy shrugged. “I’ll drive you to the airport.”

 

* * *

_Ten Years Ago – Flynn_

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the lives of Lorena and Iris Flynn, who have now returned to their home with our God, the Father…”

Garcia Flynn stood silently, trying to stop his hands from shaking, trying to keep himself steady. Lorena’s mother was crying enough for the whole congregation, and if he had to hear one more ‘sorry for your loss’ he’d either vomit or punch the poor sod who’d said it.

As if any amount of tears, or apologies, could bring back his darlings. His family.

A car crash. A goddamn car crash, with a goddamn junkie, it felt unreal. It felt so cliché.

He should have been driving. He should have been with them. But he’d said no, he had to finish grading these papers. He’d said no, he’d go to the park next time.

And then some asshole high on molly or whatever it had been had rammed into them.

He should have been there.

 

* * *

_Sixteen Years Ago – Wyatt_

Wyatt stirred his coffee around and around and around. “Jess?”

“Mmm?” Jess sipped her own coffee, staring idly out the window of the diner.

“I think I want to go to college with you. Instead—instead of the military.”

Jess put her coffee down, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Wyatt, I don’t want you to make a decision just because of me.”

“I know, but… I don’t know. I want to be… normal.”

“Define normal.”

Wyatt took a sip of coffee and winced. Needed something more, some kind of flavor. Adding sugar just didn’t cut it. “I want to make friends, see if I actually like school, be away from…”

He shifted in his seat. Jess quietly put her hand over his.

“There’s got to be a way to escape without going into the army, right?” he whispered.

Jess squeezed his hand. “I’ve got some money saved. I can pay for your application.”

“What about the essay?”

“I’ll help you. Wyatt, you deserve a future outside of this town. We both do.” Jess smiled. “We’ll make it work.”

Wyatt squeezed her hand back. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

_One Year Ago_

The first person that Flynn met as a new faculty member was Rufus Carlin. “I’m in engineering, not humanities,” Rufus told him, “but I was the one who was free and I’m easily bribed with donuts, so, you’re with me.”

Rufus gave him a tour of the campus—gorgeous, as the photos had shown, with lots of trees and greenery. It was forty-five minutes from the nearest city, which, thank God. At first the quiet had been too quiet, too much, but now that he’d sort of settled into his grief, gotten used to the burden of it, he found he appreciated the quiet much more.

“You’re one of two new faculty,” Rufus went on, leading Flynn up the main walk towards the building where most of the humanities classes were taught. “I’ve been here a couple years, Jiya got here last year… but a lot of people, they’ve been here forever, like Denise. You’ll meet her soon, she’s terrifying but in like. A great way.”

If the rest of the faculty were like Rufus—bitingly funny, smart, sarcastic, not overly friendly—Flynn figured he’d get along with them well enough as coworkers.

Rufus turned to head up the steps into the building and Flynn made to follow, but caught sight of someone standing with a few others about twenty feet away.

A very, very pretty someone.

Flynn paused. “Who’s that?”

Rufus looked over his shoulder. “Oh, that’s Wyatt Logan. He’s sports and gender studies, you’ll see him at the faculty meeting.”

The man in question was talking to some students while running a hand through dark blond hair that had been originally combed back and spiked a little out of the way but now flopped over his forehead from his meddling. He had that perpetual stubble look and kept putting his hands on his hips and shrugging. Flynn couldn’t see what color his eyes were at this distance but he sure as hell could see the black, rounded glasses that practically screamed _nerd_ and had to be on purpose, paired with ratty jeans and a bright pink shirt that said _Ask Me About My Feminist Agenda_ in black writing, with a blue button up shirt over it, just hanging open, the sleeves rolled up.

“You guarantee I’ll see him at the faculty meeting?” Flynn asked.

“Yeah, Denise would kick his ass if he wasn’t, why?”

Wyatt Logan seemed to notice Flynn staring because he glanced over, locked eyes with him, and went bright red before jerking his head back to answer the latest question from one of the students.

“Just wanted to make sure I get to say hello,” Flynn replied.

 

* * *

_Nine Years Ago_

Once upon a time, Flynn would’ve been ashamed of his actions. Drinking his life away and running from anything that resembled his old life, including any kind of academic work, was not what Lorena would’ve wanted for him. Hell, it wasn’t what Iris would’ve wanted.

But then, they weren’t here anymore, were they?

Flynn idly scrolled through YouTube on his computer, his mind buzzing. He honestly, later on, couldn’t remember how he’d ended up at the video.

He just remembered the face that filled his computer screen.

“Hi!” the woman waved a little awkwardly at the screen. “Phew, okay I had to smuggle this in, shh, don’t tell my mom.” She picked up a big bottle of vodka and presented it to the screen. “Ta-da!” She winked.

Wow, she was beautiful. But more than that… vivacious. Full of life. Joyful.

“Today I’m gonna get smashed and yell at you all about medicine in the Middle Ages. Because I just got into an argument with a surgeon about it. Who tries to mansplain history to a historian?” The woman poured herself a shot. “Idiot men, that’s who. So, bottoms up!”

Flynn looked at the title of the video, and the username.

Apparently, this Lucy Preston had a whole series. She did her own drunk history, which according to the video on her YouTube profile started by accident when her video diary that she was doing when she went to college in Europe got derailed by posting a video of herself completely hammered yelling about the history of corsets.

“Long story short,” she yelled at one point in the video, “If women pick a fashion thing that they love it’s probably because it pisses! Men! Off!”

He’d watched every single video in a row, binging it like an idiot, and he’d fallen in love with her in pretty much the same amount of time. She cared so much about education and history, about not hiding history’s shames and scars, about praising the women and minorities that were so often reduced and pushed to the side.

The video where she accidentally came out as bi was adorable. “Josephine Baker is just. She was so. Mmm. Y’know? I’d be singing jazz by the time she was done with me y’know what I mean?”

Lucy was fucking brilliant. She was passionate. She was buoyant.

He started tuning into her every week when she uploaded a new video. Sometimes little personal details slipped out—he suspected her relationship with her mother wasn’t the best, she had a younger sister she adored, and she had a bit of an insecurity complex. He felt kind of like an asshole, learning these things about her, even if he was one of a few hundred or so viewers who all knew the same things, and she was choosing to put that information up in her videos. All the videos showed signs of editing, so clearly any too-personal stuff was taken out. It was okay.

His crush on her was probably less okay.

Little by little, as he’d watched her videos, he’d started to regain his passion for academia. For teaching. For learning. For sharing. People like Lucy Preston existed in the world, and they were students, just as she’d once been a student. He still, maybe, had something to give to those people. They still, maybe, had something to give to him.

After about two months of just trying to make it through the days until her next video, Flynn called his old university.

They agreed to take him back.

 

* * *

_Three Years Ago_

 

Lucy looked around her with a small sense of awe. She hadn’t been home in a year, and yet so little felt like it had changed.

She’d never been gladder that she’d gotten out, gone somewhere knew. Every time she returned home it was same old, same old, and she feared that if she’d stayed, she’d be same old, same old as well.

The one problem with coming home so rarely, though, was that she didn’t recognize most of the people at this holiday party. Carol Preston was a social butterfly and Lucy respected that but the most social she got was in front of her webcam when she had down three shots and was ranting about how amazing Aztec city construction was. Making small talk with all of these strangers wasn’t really her cup of tea.

If only she could find Amy, who was somewhere in the crowd, probably talking more about her new job as a guidance counselor.

“There you are!”

Lucy jumped as her mom grabbed her and turned her around. “I’ve been looking for you. Honey, I want you to meet Noah, he’s the son of Bakers, old friends of mine.”

Lucy scrambled to remember if she should know the Bakers. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

Noah was tall, dark, and handsome, which… she had not been expecting. All of the people her mom had introduced her to so far at this party were over the age of fifty. “Hey, I finally get to meet the famous Lucy.”

She shook his hand. He had a strong grip and warm, soft eyes.

Huh, maybe this party was looking up after all.

 

* * *

_Fifteen Years Ago_

 

Wyatt slumped in his seat. Damn liberal arts college. To graduate he had to take classes in various disciplines, which was why he was taking a biology class and a gender studies class when his major was—tentatively—sports. He hadn’t known you could get a bachelor’s degree in that but, apparently, all things were possible.

Jess wanted to be an investigative reporter like her idols Lisa Ling and Anderson Cooper so she was currently double majoring in Mass Communications and English.

“It’ll be fine,” Jess had told him when Wyatt had been forced to sign up for this goddamn _Politics Among Gender_ class. “Just stay quiet, you might learn something.”

Right. Like he was going to learn anything getting lectured about how awful it was for women and blah blah blah.

Look, his dad had done jack shit but Grandpa had raised Wyatt as right as he could before he passed. Hold open doors, pay the check, look at her eyes not her chest, all of that. Wyatt knew how to treat a woman, okay? Ask Jess, she had no complaints.

Okay she had a few complaints but Wyatt was working on his temper, he was, really. And he hadn’t hit her, he wouldn’t ever hit her. He just… yelled.

“Good morning, everyone,” the professor said as she entered. She was wearing a black tailored suit, and had straight dark hair and eyes like two black stones. “I appreciate you all dragging your undoubtedly hungover asses into my classroom at eight a.m. on a Monday morning. In case you hadn’t figured it out yet, I’m Denise Christopher. I’m your professor for this class, and probably for any other gender studies or sociology classes you’ll take while at this college. I’ll start with attendance so that I know who you all are, and then I’ll pass out the syllabus and we’ll discuss what we’ll be covering in this class.”

They all went around, saying their names, and then Christopher passed out the syllabus.

Wyatt skimmed it. A whole week on… pornography? What the fuck? And a day about something called Two Spirits.

 _Trans People in Hindu Culture_? What the hell?

“Now,” Christopher said, reaching the front of the class and standing by her desk, “does anyone have any questions?”

“Um… porn?” one girl asked tentatively. “Are we really going to be, um, watching… that?”

“Yes,” Christopher replied. She offered no other explanation.

“What the hell is up with week five?” someone else asked, some jock looking dude in the back corner.

Wyatt wasn’t going to be able to last a whole semester like this. What kind of hippie snowflake class was this Christopher teaching? He tuned out the rest of the class and made mental plans to drop out when he got back to his room. He’d pick up another humanities. Maybe the seminar on World War II would have a free slot next semester.

As he was leaving, though, Christopher stopped him. “Logan, was it?”

He paused. Turned to look at her. “Ma’am?”

Denise had a hand lightly splayed over her desk, the other hand on her hip. “You’re not very impressed with this class, are you?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t really get it, I guess.”

“What don’t you get?”

“Like the…” Ah, well, might as well go for it since he was being asked. “Like this trans stuff, what the fuck is that? And you have a whole class on…” He flipped through the syllabus to find it. “Fanfiction? And homoeroticism? No offense but I’m not here to talk about why a bunch of fifteen year olds get wet to Captain America and the Winter Soldier going at it.”

Denise gave a small, tight-lipped smile. “Tell me, Logan, you’re from Texas, right?”

“Yes ma’am.” His accent gave him away everywhere. Jess had already ditched hers.

“Small town?”

“Yes.”

“Any positive female influences in your life?”

That threw him for a loop. “Um. My girl Jess, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Did she want you to take this class?”

“She said I might learn something.”

Denise folded her arms. “Tell you what, Logan. I think your girlfriend will be pretty disappointed with you if you drop this class. So I’ll make you a deal. You come in here, and you don’t have to take any quizzes or write any of the papers. You just have to tell me after class every day what you learned. And then at the end of the semester, you write me a paper on something, anything, in this class that you care about.”

“What if I don’t learn anything?”

“Well, it’s not all on me, is it Logan? Learning’s a two-way street. I can’t teach someone who refuses to listen.”

That got his hackles raised. “Are you suggesting I don’t listen?”

“I’m suggesting that you would be stubborn enough to tune me out all class because you thought you already knew best. Consider it a dare. You actually listen to me and give me one thing, one tiny thing, that you learned each class. And you get to skate by with an A.”

The deal sounded almost too good to be true. “Why are you offering me this?” There had to be a catch.

Denise picked up the attendance sheet. “Garrett Barner here, I wouldn’t offer him this deal because he wouldn't take it. He thinks he knows everything. And Shelby MacIntyre, she’s scared shitless but she wants to learn so a deal like this would be gilding the lily. But you… you know there’s shit you don’t know.” Denise looked up at him, her gaze piercing, pinning Wyatt to the spot like a butterfly in a museum. “And you don’t want to learn, because you’re scared of what you might discover. Am I right?”

Wyatt swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you can make something of yourself, Wyatt Logan. It’s always the quiet ones.” Denise held her hand out. “Do we have a deal?”

He sure wasn’t going to pull an A in any of his other classes. Learn one tiny thing a class? Didn’t mean he had to agree with it.

He shook her hand.

Denise turned to start gathering up her papers. Wyatt knew a dismissal when he saw one but… “What if I still don’t agree with this… politically correct crap by the time class is over?”

“If that happens, Logan,” Denise said, looking up at him, “then I’ll give you an A anyway and I’ll give up my damn tenure while I’m at it.”

Wyatt’s stomach, his knees, felt shaky. He nodded, then turned and hurried out the door.

He didn’t tell Jess about the deal.

 

* * *

_One Year Ago_

Wyatt sprinted up to Rufus. “Rufus. Rufus thank God.”

Rufus gave him a once over. “You look like you’re having a heart attack.”

“Yeah, okay, who’s the guy? The—the one in the leather jacket, with the scruff and the aviators.” The sex on a goddamn stick who looked like the kind of guy you’d find at a dive bar who fucked your brains out and vanished in the morning but then starred in your fantasies for the next decade.

“New faculty, political science.” Rufus eyed him suspiciously. “Seriously did you sprint all the way over from your office?”

“Maybe.” Wyatt put his hands on his knees, sucking in a deep breath.

“Across campus. To the science building. To ask me about the new guy.”

“Any particular reason you care so much?” Wyatt asked. “So what’s his name?”

“Garcia Flynn. Wait, is that why he was looking at you like a lion in a nature documentary? Are you a goddamn gazelle? Do you _want_ to be a gazelle?”

Wyatt glared up at Rufus. “Binging documentaries on Netflix again?”

“David Attenborough’s voice is soothing!”

“Whatever, man.” Wyatt straightened back up. “I just wanted to know who he was so I could, y’know, be prepared.”

“Prepared to hide your boner,” Rufus muttered.

Wyatt flipped him off and turned to jog back across campus.

“Where are you going?” Rufus yelled.

“I’m late for the faculty meeting!”

If he sprinted again he’d just make it… and hopefully not make a bad first impression on Flynn by getting beheaded by Denise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about Flynn's timeline: I realize that I've made him marry Lorena and have Iris much younger than in the show timeline. This is for two reasons. One, given the fact that saving the world isn't involved and that in the show Flynn is clearly still adjusting to his grief, I changed it from four years since Lorena and Iris died to ten years, to give Flynn more time to recover. Second, PhDs take a heckin' long time to earn and I wanted Flynn to have enough time to earn all the prestigious awards that Lucy is going to daydream about bashing him in the head with.

_One Year Ago_

 

Wyatt burst into the faculty meeting room. “Sorry, sorry, I was across campus.”

Denise gestured for him to sit down and Wyatt collapsed into the chair, closing his eyes in relief. “As I was saying, if we could please give a warm welcome to our newest faculty members, Lucy Preston and Dr. Garcia Flynn.”

Wyatt’s eyes flew open again and he sat up straight.

Hot-as-fuck guy was a doctor? He had a PhD?

True, he did look about five… ish… years older than Wyatt. Wyatt himself had been honestly lazy as fuck about his own doctorate. He couldn’t pick a narrow enough topic and Denise was starting to gently prod him again.

The guy, Flynn, looked even hotter up close. The aviators were off now and wow, the guy had intense eyes. And a strong jaw. And large hands.

Hoo God, why did he have to be literally everything Wyatt liked in a guy?

“It’s wonderful to meet you all,” said… that had to be Lucy Preston.

Oh wow.

She was gorgeous, with thick dark hair and an angular face, shining dark eyes, an expressive mouth. She looked no-nonsense and whip smart, and was wearing a bright green top with a dark blue blazer and a gold locket, the epitome of business casual.

Wyatt was in so much trouble.

Flynn just nodded.

“And please, call me Lucy,” Lucy said. She smiled winningly at all of them and Wyatt’s heart flipped.

Oh, yeah, big trouble.

“So,” Denise said, “if we could all be willing to lend a hand and help these two feel welcome…”

From there she talked about actual business stuff for the semester. Wyatt had to work hard to keep from fidgeting. Was it just him or was Flynn glaring at him a lot? Preston was looking at Denise attentively, even taking notes. Clearly the model professor.

“And I think that’s it,” Denise wrapped up. “Have a good first week and try not to kill the freshmen.”

Wyatt jumped up, but before he could reach either of them, Lucy said to Flynn, “I could show you where the dining hall is?”

“I got a tour this morning,” Flynn said. “I know where it is.”

Lucy blinked at him, and hoo boy, Wyatt didn’t know her at all but even he could tell that was a very dangerous blink. “I see.”

“Anyway I’m sure you have other things to do,” Flynn went on, grabbing his leather jacket off the back of his chair.

“No, of course, and clearly you’re quite busy. Sorry.”

“I could walk with you,” Wyatt blurted out.

Lucy looked over at him and smiled. “That’d be lovely.” She looked over at Flynn. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

“I think you should be getting settled in your office,” Flynn pointed out.

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “And I think that sounds a lot like telling me what to do.”

Flynn looked genuinely surprised. “I just thought you might like some… advice.”

“And I thought you might like to get to know your new staff members.”

“I already know you,” Flynn said.

Wyatt’s eyebrows rose. Okay, so, ten on a scale of hotness. Four on a scale of social interaction.

“Oh really.” Lucy’s tone was definitely dangerous now.

“I read your article on early anti-Native American movements by the American government in the wake of the Revolutionary War,” Flynn said. “Your opening argument was quite sound, but you lost me in the middle a bit, I think some of your sources…”

“If you want to make a formal rebuttal, although I’m not sure how given that you’re not a history professor,” Lucy replied, her smile sharp as a knife, “then you’re welcome to. Be sure to title it, _A Response to Professor Preston_ so that the whole academic world can know who you’re hanging out to dry. I’m going to get lunch.” She looked back over at Wyatt. “Coming?”

…yes, later, at home, when he could imagine her using that same tone on him to tell him to go down on his knees and put his hands behind his back.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he managed to croak out loud.

Flynn’s gaze flicked over to him. Wyatt struggled to maintain eye contact. Oh God.

“Wyatt,” Lucy called as she walked through the door.

Pinned by Flynn’s burning gaze and Lucy’s commanding voice, Wyatt realized that he was about to have a very, very difficult semester. Especially if Flynn decided he wanted to keep being an ass and Lucy decided she was, in fact, going to wage war over it.

He hurried after Lucy and tried to ignore Flynn’s gaze on his retreating back.

 

* * *

_Fifteen Years Ago_

 

Wyatt strode over to Christopher’s desk as everyone else filed out of class. “It makes no sense.”

Christopher set aside the quizzes she’d collected—she’d handed one to Wyatt to keep up appearances and he’d actually found he knew the answers to half the questions, but he’d just doodled on it because no way was he going to let her know that he knew. “What makes no sense?”

“Bisexual? Pansexual? It’s all the same damn thing, isn’t it?”

Christopher shrugged. “Pretty much, but the distinction matters to some people. It’s all about whatever word works for you.”

“But queer is the same thing.”

“Queer covers the whole spectrum, including if you feel you don’t quite fit under any label,” Christopher said.

“So you’re queer. Because you’re also a lesbian.”

“Right.”

This was making his head hurt. “So, if you’ve liked girls all your life. And suddenly you like guys. You could be bi? You don’t have to choose between gay and straight?”

“Exactly.” Christopher gave a small smile. “Sexuality is fluid, and can change over time, and is as individual as you are. Labels just help us to understand ourselves and one another. But it’s possible no label fits you, or only partially describes you, and that’s all right.”

“I’m not saying that any label fits me,” Wyatt said, his palms sweating, his stomach churning. “I was just curious.”

“Of course, Wyatt, I’m not suggesting otherwise. ‘You’ can be used in the general sense as well.”

He swallowed. He hated how vulnerable he felt right now. It was always as if Christopher could see right through him and it terrified him because he could barely see through himself when he looked in the mirror. “Right. Okay. I’ll… see you Wednesday then.”

“Of course.” Christopher picked up the quizzes again. “Oh, and Wyatt?”

He wheeled back around. “Yes, ma’am?”

She held up his quiz, covered in his doodles. “Your rabbit faces could use some work but your clouds are very good.”

Wyatt’s ears and cheeks burned as he booked it out of the classroom.

 

* * *

_Two Years Ago_

 

She was in the middle of one of her videos when the bedroom door opened and Noah walked in, interrupting her as she went on a tirade about Thomas Jefferson.

“Oh, sorry,” Noah said. He paused. “Um, you didn’t mention you’d be Skyping.”

“Oh, no, I’m not.” Lucy hit pause on the recorder. “It’s, um, a kind of web show that I do.”

Noah walked over, frowning. “A web show?”

“Yeah.” It sounded so… silly, talking about it out loud. “When I went to college over in Europe I left behind everyone I’d ever known. So I started a sort of video diary, talking about my classes and places I’d been, things I’d learned. One night I got rather drunk and so, uh, during the video I started ranting and—and I got a crap ton of views. So I started doing my own… version of drunk history, I guess you could call it.”

“So, every week you get drunk and yell about history?” Noah looked puzzled.

“Yes. It’s a lot of fun, people comment that they learn a lot. I have subscribers, people who always make comments. Like this one.” She went to one of her videos and pointed at a comment. “That’s toosolidflesh, he and I had a whole conversation about my Shakespeare video, he always has a nice comment. Or she, I don’t know.”

“Isn’t this a little…” Noah shrugged. “I don’t know…”

“I’m sorry if it’s not serious enough for you,” Lucy said, trying not to snap and to keep her voice even. She was seriously hammered.

“I’m sorry.” Noah smiled at her. “It’s just when I heard about you from your mom—I didn’t expect you to be…”

“Immature?”

“Laidback.”

“You’ve seen me sing along to John Denver. At top volume. It doesn’t get more laidback than that.”

“Yeah, well, when Carol Preston talks about how her daughter would be perfect for you, you don’t think—”

“Wait.” Lucy couldn’t tell if the room was spinning from the alcohol or the revelation. “Mom… set you up with me?”

“She asked me to take you out, show you a good time while you were home,” Noah said. “I figured it was just one night, wouldn’t kill me. And then I find out you were… well, you steal food from my plate and you sing super loudly in the shower and… yeah. After that it was all me.”

Lucy closed her laptop. “I… I decided to move back in with my mom. To stay here. To… to give you, and me… to give you and me a chance.” She stared very hard at the floor to keep her composure.

“Yes, and trust me, I didn’t expect you to do that, and I appreciate it.”

“My mom hated that I moved away. She always wanted…” Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh my God, I’m going to throw up.”

“Here.” She heard rustling and cracked an eye open. Noah had grabbed her the trash can.

God, he was so sweet. And a surgeon, from a good family, with money. Everything her mom wanted her to marry.

How had she been so stupid?

“I need to talk to my mom.” Her voice came out high and reedy.

“Whoa.” Noah crouched down, taking her face in his hands. “Lucy, honey, you’re crying.”

“I need… I need to talk to my mom, to that—that manipulating… she couldn’t keep me home so she used… used you… oh my God.”

“Lucy what are you ta—”

She threw up on Noah’s shirt.

 

* * *

_Fifteen Years Ago_

 

Flynn took off his shoes as he entered the house. “Sorry I’m late!” he yelled.

He knew his schedule was hectic enough, that he was gone from home for long periods of time. Lorena deserved to have all the time that he could give her.

But when he called out, there was no answer.

Flynn’s senses kicked into high alert. He didn’t think anyone from his various engagements would be pissed enough to target him specifically, or even know about Lorena. True, the NSA had reached out to him but he didn’t trust the American government any farther than he could throw them. They wouldn’t send someone to invade his house, though, would they?

_Only twenty six and so well known for your guerilla tactics. We could use a man like you._

Was his wife about to pay the price for Flynn saying no to the U.S. military?

He entered the living room—and found Lorena sitting there by herself with a glass of soda. She was staring mindlessly at the television, clearly not seeing it.

“Hey, my love.” Flynn walked over, sitting down and taking her hand. “What’s the matter?”

Lorena was the kind of person who took time to gather her words, who turned them over and over until she was sure she was saying exactly what she wanted to say. Her silence didn’t necessarily alarm him. The nervous look on her face did.

She looked over at him, smiling, but Flynn could see tears in her eyes. Was her mother ill? Had her brother gotten into a car crash—his reckless driving catching up to him?

“Garcia.” Lorena squeezed his hand. “I’m—I think that you might want to—you know I don’t want to stop you from doing what you feel you have to do, to make the world a better place. But I think you might want to start looking for another career.”

“Why’s that? Did someone threaten you?”

Lorena shook her head. “No, no, I’m—because I’d like my child to have their father close by all the time, instead of going away for months.”

“Your…” Flynn’s mouth went dry. “…our?”

Lorena nodded. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

Flynn pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, scattering kisses all over her face as Lorena clung to him, laughing and crying all at once. “That’s—that’s amazing, _moja ljubav_ , _moja žena_ , Lorena, that’s—that’s wonderful.”

He nearly knocked the both of them off the couch and Lorena kept laughing, laughing even as he kissed her.

“What do you think I should do?” he asked her later, much later, when they were spent and lying in bed and he could spread his hand over her stomach, think about the tiny, precious life that was starting to grow inside.

Soon that would be a child. Their child.

Lorena hummed, resting her head on his shoulder, her fingers idly tracing a pattern on his chest. “You used to want to teach history, right? When you were a kid? You’d be a good teacher, you’ve always been good at leading your teams.”

It was true. It was why he’d managed to lead several units and strike teams despite his younger age. “Not history, I don’t think. Something about… people need to know about government, and their own responsibility, and how to fight back. How can anyone fight against an oppressive government if they’re not educated about it?”

“So you want to go into political science?”

“If that’s what it’s called, then yes.” Flynn paused. “But that… that would be a lot of work. Going back to school, getting a degree, while having a kid—I want to be an equal partner in this.”

Lorena kissed him softly. “Garcia. If this is what you are passionate about, enough to keep you home and safe for our child, then of course I support it. Class schedules aren’t like work schedules. You can still have plenty of time with our baby. Maybe just be a part time student.”

Flynn smiled down at her. He was so lucky to have her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lorena put her hand over his where it rested on her stomach.

He was going to be a father. He was going to be a teacher like he’d told his mom as a kid.

He wished she was around to see it.

 

* * *

_One Year Ago_

Lucy was realizing she might have overestimated how many books she could feasibly carry up the stairs to the second floor classroom. As she tried not to send them all crashing to the ground while also peering around the stack to make sure she didn’t crash into anyone, she caught sight of someone walking up from the stairs on the other side of the hallway and stopped short.

Holy…

Garcia Flynn had been attractive enough when she’d seen him at the faculty meeting, although attractiveness didn’t stop her from wanting to smack him in the face with a very heavy book like, say, the _Encyclopedia Britannica_. But the scruff, the strong jaw, the eyes, the… all of it, all right, she would’ve been happy to relieve some stress with him if she’d met him in a bar.

And by ‘relieve some stress’ she meant ‘have him fuck her brains out’.

But she’d been able to dismiss that somewhat easily. Handsome he might be but she’d seen plenty of t-shirt and leather jacket sporting men in her time.

This, though.

What the fuck was this bullshit.

Flynn was wearing what looked like a goddamn actually tailored suit. Well, he didn’t have a jacket on, but the pants were. Wow. Um. And he had a vest to go with it, and a light blue buttoned up shirt beneath, with a blue and tan striped tie…

He’d shaved, too, and his hair was combed and she was… she was gonna…

She was gonna fucking climb that like a rabid squirrel.

As Flynn unlocked his classroom door, Lucy noticed she wasn’t the only one gaping at that ass, or those arms, or that chest, or that… everything.

Wyatt Logan, the gender studies professor, was standing in the doorway to his classroom and looking like he’d had an aneurysm.

Hmm.

Wyatt had been very sweet to her at the faculty meeting. She’d thought he’d been flirting with her and she didn’t think she was mistaken. But if he was also looking at Flynn like his eyes were going to pop out of his head…

Flynn got the door open, turned to push it, and caught sight of Wyatt. “Nice shirt, Logan,” he said—or rather, practically purred.

Wyatt went pink. His shirt said _Bond Girl_ on it.

Flynn stepped into his classroom and Wyatt fled into his. Lucy grinned to herself.

Her semester had just gotten a lot more fun.


	4. Chapter 4

_Six Months Ago_

Flynn didn’t plan to flirt with Wyatt. Or with anyone. Ever. Not that he’d taken a vow of celibacy or something after Lorena and Iris but he’d always been aware that he wasn’t the kind of person who did things halfway. Lorena had once joked that he didn’t know the meaning of ‘casual’ and she’d had a point.

And falling in love with Lucy wasn’t casual. Sure, it was unconventional to fall in love with someone through their videos and chatting with them in the comments section. But he was in love with her—and scrambling to figure out where exactly he’d gone wrong in earning her friendship because Lucy looked at him rather like he imagined a mongoose looked at a cobra.

But everything about Wyatt Logan screamed _submissive and not straight_ , and dammit if Flynn hadn’t fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. Wyatt was playful, buzzing with energy, and fucking talked about BDSM in his _Power Dynamics in Gender_ junior seminar. How the hell was Flynn not supposed to feel something when faced with all of that in such a pretty package?

Unfortunately, Wyatt seemed determined to be as cranky at Flynn as humanely possible.

It wasn’t that Wyatt was scared of his sexuality. On his office door was a poster that said _The Gay Agenda Meets on Thursdays_ and he owned a shirt that said, in pink and blue and purple, _Both? Both? Both. Both is Good._

Maybe he just didn’t like Flynn, specifically.

That rankled Flynn, in ways he didn’t like to admit.

But Flynn just couldn’t resist needling Wyatt, not when Wyatt would get startled and wide-eyed and flush all over and stutter. So when he saw Wyatt in the break room… well.

“So what do bad boys use?”

Wyatt jumped as he turned around to face Flynn, once again revealing the front of his t-shirt. It showed a happy ketchup and happy mustard bottle holding hands with the words _Good Boys Use Condiments_ above them.

Wyatt swallowed, his eyes wide behind his glasses. Wow, he looked pretty when he was flustered. Then his jaw tightened and he seemed to steel himself. “They use cock rings.”

…oh the things Flynn could do to Wyatt with one of those…

Wyatt shoved past Flynn, coffee mug in hand, and exited the room.

Huh.

Flynn went about making his own coffee, and then headed back to his office. On the way, though, he heard… something.

He paused.

Was that… sniffling? Crying?

Flynn looked towards the noise. He was outside Lucy Preston’s office.

He should keep walking. She wouldn’t need comfort from him of all people. He really should just pretend he hadn’t heard anything.

Gently, trying not to startle her, Flynn knocked on the door, pushing it slightly open. “Lucy?”

She was sitting at her desk, messily scribbled pieces of paper around her, a book lying open against the wall like she’d thrown it, wet, crumpled tissues on the desk and on the ground. Lucy pushed her chair back, startled, as he opened the door. Her eyes were red, her face blotchy, some snot running down her nose. Her hair was a bird’s nest and the circles under her eyes were bright purple. “Flynn.”

He stepped inside, closing the door. “I’m sorry, I just heard you… I thought you might…”

He held out his mug. “Coffee?”

Lucy stared at the mug for a moment like she didn’t recognize what a mug actually was, then took it from him. “Oh. Thank you.” She sipped for a moment.

“Everything all right?” he asked, trying to keep his tone soft.

Lucy gestured at the papers in front of her. “If you call unable to come up with a dissertation for my PhD ‘all right’ then yeah, sure, everything’s dandy.”

That gave him pause. “I thought you had already started your doctorate.” She’d mentioned it briefly in a video… wow, years ago.

“I did.” Lucy put the mug down, sighing, sitting on the edge of her desk. “I was working on it with my mom.”

Carol Preston. Flynn had heard of her. Anyone who was anyone in the history world had heard of her. Flynn himself was political science but he did love history and of course through Lucy’s videos he’d ended up looking up her mother.

An eminent scholar Carol Preston might be but if Flynn ever met her, he wasn’t sure he could be held responsible for his actions.

“Ah. She’s still at Stanford?”

Lucy nodded. “We, uh, she’s…” Lucy shook her head. “She’s always been very controlling and I moved away for a long time and she was always trying to get me to come home… and when I did, I thought for other reasons, independent reasons, and I learned that she’d sort of orchestrated it—she used someone else, just… used them like they were a tool or something… and the whole time I’ve been working on my PhD and she kept saying—it wasn’t good enough, it was never good enough, and all my peers were getting their PhDs and passing me by and I thought she was holding me back unfairly but now I’m here, and I don’t want to do the same topic, but I can’t think of a new topic, and now I can’t help but wonder if maybe she wasn’t holding me back, she was right, and I’m not good enough or not ready or…”

Flynn sat down next to her on the desk. Rage rose up in him like a wave against Carol Preston. “Lucy. You are a genius.”

She stared at him. “I’m—what?”

“You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” Flynn said. He shrugged. “I think you could even be better than me, someday.”

Lucy’s cheeks got a little pink. “Wait, you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I was just… always under the impression that… I thought you… you always point out the flaws in my academic work!”

That threw him for a loop. “I’m… engaging in academic discussion.”

“The very first thing you said to me was that the middle of my article on Native Americans in the Revolutionary War was weak!”

“Was that… did you not… appreciate that?”

Lucy stared at him for a long moment. “You thought I would?”

Oh. Oh, he really messed up. The last six months were starting to make a lot more sense.

Flynn looked down at his knees. “I, uh… I think I may have made an error in judgment.”

“Damn right you might have,” Lucy muttered, taking another sip of coffee.

“I presumed to know you, when I didn’t,” Flynn admitted. “Lucy, I’m… I’m toosolidflesh.”

Lucy choked on her coffee. She whipped her head around to look at him, eyes wide. “You’re— _you’re_ —”

He nodded.

Lucy smacked him on the arm. “And you couldn’t have started our acquaintance by saying hey, I’m a big fan of your videos, we’ve had a few conversations before about them? You had to just jump down my throat—”

“I’m sorry—”

“It all makes sense,” Lucy moaned, putting her face in her hands. “Oh my God, you’re not an asshole, you’re just _hopeless_.”

“Um… thank you?”

“I thought you hated me,” Lucy said, her voice slightly muffled from having her hands pressed to her face. “I thought you thought I was an incompetent dolt.”

“What? No. No, not—that’s not—no.” He felt like a complete idiot. “Lucy, I admire your work ethic, and your knowledge, and your passion. I… I’m rather hard, on my students.”

“Yes, I noticed they don’t want you to teach freshmen anymore.”

“Because I know what they’re capable of and I want them to do their best. And I know you are capable of greatness in your field. And I think that maybe I… without realizing it I might have…”

“Been a jerk about it?” Lucy finally lowered her hands.

“Ah. Yes.”

Lucy looked down at her lap. “I might have been projecting a little, too. My mom…” She sighed. “She’s a lot. Nothing was ever good enough for her.”

“What was your original dissertation on?”

“The Culper Ring.”

“You studied in Europe, though. Surely there’s something in European history you could do instead if you’re tired of American history? Or… you always promote women in your classes, why not do something on the suffragette movement or an important woman in history? Josephine Baker, Hedy Lamarr… you’ve talked about both of them in your videos.”

Lucy wiped at her eyes. “I guess it’s just hard to think that I can… I’ve done what people told me for so long and now nobody’s telling me anything and the possibilities… it’s like I can have whatever ice cream flavor I want and that’s terrifying.” She looked over at him. “What did you do yours on?”

“The breakup of Yugoslavia.”

Lucy laughed. “Of course you did.”

Flynn could feel himself smiling and knew that he probably looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t quite stop himself. “You’ll figure it out, Lucy. Just be kinder to yourself. It’s not easy to switch tracks.

She nodded, holding up the cup of coffee. “Thank you. You’re… you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

“Well, that’s not so surprising. We’re both geniuses…”

She elbowed him, hard. “Don’t push your luck.”

Flynn patted her knee, then left before he could do something stupid like kiss her.

Oh.

Fuck. His coffee.

He sighed and went back to the break room to make himself another.

 

* * *

_Fourteen and a Half Years Ago_

Wyatt fidgeted, his stomach churning as he handed the paper in to Denise.

She had told him he just had to do one paper, one paper about something he was passionate about that he’d learned from class.

Well, he was passionate about this.

And if anyone could understand… it would be Denise.

Denise glanced up at him, then looked down at the paper. “You look like you might throw up, Wyatt.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Don’t apologize, for goodness’ sake.” Denise looked down at the paper again. “ _Coming to Terms with_ …” she paused.

Wyatt really thought he might vomit.

Denise put the paper down, then looked back up at him. Wyatt could feel his face heating up.

“I thought… I’d start by telling you,” he managed, his throat painfully tight. “Because you… you’re the reason I… that I know, and that I’m not… I don’t know how to say it, I still feel—I feel sick about it sometimes y’know? I feel like I can’t even hang out with a guy as a friend or I’ll—I’ll do something that’ll mark me somehow and he’ll hate me and I feel like my own skin doesn’t even fit and I—it hurts. But you’re helping me learn how to make it not hurt. So.”

He looked down at his shoes, struggling to swallow. “So I thought I’d tell you, first.”

He heard Denise’s chair pushing back. “Oh, Wyatt, come here.”

Wyatt looked up just in time for Denise to pull him in and hug him. It felt like—like someone had hit just the right spot to send the entire dam exploding, crashing, tumbling down, and he grabbed onto her with both hands and they were about the same height but he felt so small, so very small, and Denise just hugged him and rubbed his back and he never would’ve thought of Denise Christopher as soft but she was being soft for him.

“Are you going to tell Jess?” Denise asked.

“Eventually.” He tried to pull back but Denise tightened her grip and kept soothing him. “I… I’m worried she’ll think that means I want to break up or whatever.”

“Jess is a levelheaded girl. She won’t think that. She knows how much you love her.”

Wyatt nodded into Denise’s shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, Wyatt,” Denise said, pulling back and taking his face in her hands. “You’ve done a lot of growth this semester. I’m really proud of you.”

“I feel like shit,” Wyatt mumbled. “I thought this was supposed to feel… freeing and all. But I just feel sick.”

“I know. But it will get better. I can’t say it won’t take a while, but it will get better.”

Wyatt nodded, his eyes getting hot, everything he’d ever learned growing up telling him that this was still wrong, still sick, still going to get him rejected by the world.

Denise pulled him into another hug, and let him cry.

 

* * *

_Two Years Ago_

Flynn stared out the window of the apartment.

He’d thought that receiving his PhD would help him to feel like he was finally honoring Lorena and Iris the right way. He wasn’t giving up on himself, honoring Lorena’s passion and support of him, and Iris’s pride in her father. He’d had a productive few years, he had some awards sitting on his shelf, and yet he still felt… like something was missing.

He had originally gotten into this for the teaching, not for the academics itself, although he had fallen in love with that—and partially had Lucy Preston to thank for it. But he’d done this to help teach the future generation how to understand politics, to know when they were being exploited, to take charge of their lives and make their world a better place than the one that he’d had to deal with, the one where he’d had to see people die for what dictators and powerful, corrupt militaries drunk on power decided they wanted.

He’d sort of forgotten that.

Maybe he could find a place… a small liberal arts college, a place where it wasn’t pretentious rich kids but kids who actually fought hard to get where they were. Somewhere quiet, where he could have some peace, someplace with nature. Not too far away, so he could visit Lorena and Iris’s graves.

Yes. That would… that would be ideal.

Flynn went over to the computer. Moving would be easy. He hadn’t really had a proper… nothing that he could call a ‘home’ since Lorena and Iris. He’d gotten rid of everything, sold the house, put the few things he wanted to save like Iris’s drawings in a storage unit that he paid monthly.

He’d start looking for some colleges to apply to. Someplace he could really settle down in, refocus. He was sure he’d have no shortage of offers.

Although…

He paused. Would Stanford have a place open?

No. No, he was not going to basically stalk Lucy Preston by getting a job at the college where she worked.

He’d find somewhere else.

 

* * *

_One and a Half Years Ago_

Once again, Lucy was packing her bags in a hurry.

But this time, she had two people talking to her and trying to get her to change her mind.

Amy once again stood there, arms folded, silently watching.

“But… Lucy, babe…” Noah reached for her and Lucy dodged his grip.

It wasn’t really about him. He was a wonderful person. Someone she’d thought about marrying. But she couldn’t ever be with someone who didn’t see Carol’s manipulation, her underhanded behavior. She couldn’t be with someone who could be so easily ruled by Carol, who was under her mother’s thumb without even realizing it.

And perhaps it was petty of her but she couldn’t be with someone who so easily fit the mold her mother wanted for her. She wasn’t going to marry anyone that her mother approved of, plain and simple, if only because whoever her mother approved of couldn’t make Lucy happy, and she knew it. She needed more than what her mother wanted for her and that meant she needed more than what Noah could offer her.

It didn’t help that Noah clearly didn’t understand why this upset her or why this was wrong. He kept asking her to stay, insisting that it could be worked out, not really listening to her when she explained why this was such a problem.

“I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her things. “I just can’t do this. I can’t be here anymore, I have to get away.”

“Lucy, you’re being ridiculous,” Carol said. “Now, why don’t I fix some tea and we’ll…”

“You’re being a dick, Mom,” Amy said.

“You, young lady—”

“Lucy, can’t we please—”

“No!” Lucy roared.

Everyone fell silent. Carol looked appalled.

Lucy realized her hands were clenched into fists, shaking, her jaw clenched, and she tried to relax a little. “Noah. I care about you. I do. But I can’t be with you, not when you don’t understand what she’s doing and what’s going on here. I need someone who will support me in finding my independence, not tell me that it’s not a big deal and sweep it under the rug! She manipulated us, and helped start our relationship, just so that she could keep me at home. And that’s not okay! And you being okay with overlooking that is hurtful and I just can’t be with someone who thinks that!

“And you!” She glared at her mother. “You dare to keep—you meddle in my life, and you lie and you manipulate and you don’t see a problem with it! You treat me like I’m some—some child that doesn’t know what she’s doing and it’s wrong and thoughtless and I won’t stand for it anymore and it’s cost you. I’m not coming home. I’m not. You don’t get a daughter anymore because you tried to hold me too close.”

She whirled back around, leaving Noah to storm out of the room and Carol to gape at her.

Amy started applauding. “Hell yeah, Lucy!”

Carol snapped at Amy, but Lucy didn’t even hear it. She tuned it out.

She was going to get another job, at another university. She was going to end her doctorate and start a new one, and she was going to do it all far, far away from Carol Preston.

She felt a little like throwing up, like the first time she’d gotten on an airplane, or gotten on a roller coaster, or went to Europe.

But mostly she felt exhilarated, and free.

 

* * *

_Six Months Ago_

Wyatt was grading papers on his desk when he heard a knock. “Come in!”

“Dun dun dun!” Jess opened the door, grinning.

Wyatt jumped up. “Jess!”

She dashed over and they hugged. “Jesus Christ, you didn’t tell me you were getting in!”

“I wanted to surprise you!” Jess handed him a bag. “Here, open it!”

Wyatt pulled out a shirt that said _Self Rescuing Princess_ , complete with a small gold crown design. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Hey, if the shoe—or shirt—fits…” Jess kissed him on the cheek. “You pulled yourself out of that pit, Wyatt, nobody else could do that for you. I’m proud of you.”

“Well, hey, enough about that.” Wyatt stripped off his current shirt and put the new one on. “I want to hear all about your assignment! Saudi, I mean, holy shit.”

“Hey, Wyatt, I was hoping—oh.” Lucy stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Lucy!” Wyatt grabbed Jess and dragged her over to Lucy. “This is Jess, she’s my best friend.”

“Former girlfriend,” Jess said, sticking out her hand. Lucy shook it, looking hesitant. “Are you Lucy Preston?”

“Ah… yes.”

Jess’s smile grew sharp. Oh, fuck. “Wyatt’s told me _so_ much about you.”

“Only bad things, I hope,” Lucy joked. “He hasn’t really mentioned you.”

“I’ve asked him not to. My work’s dangerous.”

Lucy paused. “Oh my God you’re Jessica _Moore_.”

Jess laughed. “Yup, yup that’s me.”

“Oh. My God. I have so many questions. Your work in South America? The story on Russian hacking? The article on the Trump administration…”

“We were going to go to lunch,” Wyatt said. “You want to join us?”

“Yes!” Jess looked slyly at Wyatt. “Is Garcia Flynn around? I’ve heard a ton about him, too.”

“No,” Wyatt hissed.

“Oh, yeah, he should be free!” Lucy said brightly.

Oh God.

“So how did you two go from dating to best friends?” Lucy asked as they walked down to Flynn’s office.

“We broke up sophomore year after I got a little tired of the jealousy and misogyny.”

“I mistakenly thought it was because I told her I was bi.”

“Fun fact! Gay men can be misogynistic!” Jess said brightly.

“We spent a year fighting,” Wyatt explained. “And then we became friends again in senior year.”

“After he groveled.”

“Wyatt, groveling?” Flynn said, emerging from his office. “I think I’d like to see that.”

Wyatt glared at him. He was well aware that Flynn had a fuck ton of fun needling him, and he hated that he had a major crush on the guy in response.

And that Jess knew about Wyatt’s crush on both Flynn and Lucy.

“We’re going to lunch,” Jess said. “I’m Wyatt’s ex, I’d love to meet you two, he’s told me so much about you.”

“Wyatt’s _ex_ ,” Flynn said, his eyes gleaming. “Well. I am hungry.”

Wyatt groaned. He wasn’t going to survive this lunch.


	5. Chapter 5

_Fourteen Years Ago_

 

Wyatt stood in his dorm, staring at Jess in disbelief. Thank God his roommate Dave wasn’t here. “You—you’re breaking up with me?”

“Yes, Wyatt!” Jess folded her arms. “How many times and ways do I have to say it for you to get it through your thick skull?”

“Is this about that asshole at the bar last week? Because—”

“You mean the perfectly nice guy that I was chatting with before you went all fucking caveman on us and dragged me home?” Jess snapped.

“He was flirting with you!”

“And so what if he was? Wyatt, you think I can’t handle that on my own? I wasn’t flirting back! And he was just being friendly, for fuck’s sake! You’re—you’re so fucking controlling, God _damn_ it!” Jess made claws with her hands, reaching out like she was seriously tempted to strangle him. “Look, ever since you came out—”

Cold anger flooded his stomach like ice. “Wait, is this because I’m bi!?”

“No, you moron!” Jess ran a hand through her hair. “Ever since you came out you seem to think that all your bullshit behavior is gone but it’s not. Newsflash, asshole, your sexuality has nothing to do with your shitty relationship behavior! You’re a jealous, possessive, controlling piece of—ugh!” She flung her hands into the air. “Look, look, Wyatt, we have been together for five years, okay? Five years. And I have tried. Because I love you, I do. But I’m not _in_ love with you anymore because love is—love is a choice and I can no longer choose to love and be with someone who behaves like this! You can’t control me and you shouldn’t try!”

“I’m not trying to—I’m just—” Wyatt realized that he didn’t actually have any excuse, anything to say. “Jess, you’re my family, c’mon.”

“You don’t treat family like this,” Jess insisted. “I know your dad was a shit example but he’s not an excuse.”

She grabbed her jacket off the desk chair. Wyatt reached for her, yanking on her arm, and maybe he did it a little hard but he didn’t mean to, honestly he didn’t—

Jess yelped in pain, yanking her arm back. “That! That is the kind of shit I’m talking about!” She stormed up to him, getting in his face. “You can go to Hell, and you can come back when you realize why your behavior was shitty and you’re ready to apologize and actually be better. With no excuses. No explanations. Until then? Rot there.”

She whipped around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

 

* * *

_Six Months Ago_

 

They all got lunch at the on-campus dining hall because none of them had enough time to drive off campus. Lucy rather liked the on-campus dining, but Flynn complained about it constantly. They got a table in the corner away from the students who tended to congregate in the center. Lucy ended up with Flynn on her left and Wyatt on her right, Jess directly across from her.

“So, tell me,” Flynn said, sounding all too delighted with this change of events, “what was Wyatt like in college?”

“Oh God,” Wyatt blurted out. “You wouldn’t’ve liked me in college.”

“Why not?” Lucy asked.

“Because I was a narrow minded, jealous, misogynistic and selfish,” Wyatt said in the dead, dry tone of one who genuinely and furiously hated his past self.

“I’m sure you weren’t that bad,” Lucy consoled.

“He really was,” Jess confirmed.

“You turned out pretty okay,” Flynn said. “Princess.”

Wyatt went pink and flipped Flynn off.

“That’s the whole ‘self-rescuing’ thing,” Jess said. “He pulled himself out of that shithole.” She grinned at Wyatt. “And we’re so very proud of you,” she cooed.

“Oh, look, a subject change!” Wyatt said. “What’ve you been up to on your latest assignment?”

“You know I can’t tell you that until the article is out,” Jess replied. “But Lucy! You got here just six months ago, still working on your PhD, Wyatt tells me? Are you a horrid procrastinator like he is or…?”

Ah. Well. She’d known it would only be a matter of time until she’d have to share her story. “I made a lot of progress on it. But, um, I moved universities once, and that caused some setbacks. I wanted to be closer to my boyfriend at the time, and moved back in with my mother who was my advisor… and then I realized she was still a manipulative bitch and my relationship with my boyfriend was built on a foundation of lies and no backbone, so I dumped all my PhD work to change topics and change universities and here I am, starting from square one.”

Under the table, she felt Flynn very, very tentatively put his hand on her knee, squeezing briefly before retreating again. Lucy wanted to catch his hand, to interlock their fingers and hold it, but she wasn’t—she wasn’t sure. She’d seen how outrageously Flynn flirted with Wyatt. He was probably just wanting friendship from her and she was the one stupidly getting her hopes up.

On her other side, Wyatt leaned in, gently bumping his elbow against hers.

She couldn’t get her hopes up there, either. Wyatt snapped and growled at Flynn in response to Flynn’s flirtations but everyone could see how he blushed and stammered, and the way he constantly looked over at Flynn when Flynn wasn’t watching.

At least they both were eager to support her, even if it was just as friends.

“I’m sorry,” Jess said. “I didn’t mean to bring up any sore spots.”

“No, it’s okay. I get so many weird looks when people find out I haven’t finished it yet.” Lucy shrugged. It hurt, she wasn’t going to lie. She’d had two big setbacks and both because of her mother’s machinations and there was no getting around that, it really did hurt. But she wasn’t going to dwell on that.

She loved her new university. She loved her coworkers—Jiya reminded her a lot of Amy, Rufus was hilarious and loved chatting with her about underappreciated diverse figures in history, Denise was firm but loving, and Wyatt and Flynn…

That was a dangerous subject to dwell on, but anyway.

She liked where she was now. And that was what she was going to focus on.

“Meanwhile I’m just a slacker,” Wyatt admitted. “Denise has been hounding me.”

“You’re lucky you’ve always been her favorite,” Jess teased.

“I wasn’t,” Wyatt protested.

“Right, because she invited all of her students to weekly dinners.”

“That was after she’d had me all freshman year and took pity on me.” Wyatt glanced over at Lucy and Flynn. “I didn’t have any friends besides Jess so when we broke up I was pretty alone. Denise started having me over for dinner once a week with her and Michelle and the kids.”

“And she could periodically smack sense into you,” Jess said.

“Hey, I needed it.”

“Was it hard?” Lucy asked. “It sounds like you had a lot of shit to get over.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Part of it was dealing with my dad. He was an asshole, knocked me around. I drove his car into the lake when I was a teenager and felt all triumphant and thought that’d cured it. But that’s not how you get over trauma, y’know, it takes time. After I took Denise’s class on gender I thought I was all… cured of my shitty ideas on people, and I wasn’t. I struggled with a lot of stereotypes still. I remember one dinner…” Wyatt shook his head with a rueful laugh. “I said I was bi and not pan because pan people were attracted to trans people and I wasn’t, and boy did Denise tear me a new one. And I just… didn’t realize all the shit I’d internalized. But it was good, y’know, because by the time I graduated I was becoming someone I actually liked. I didn’t understand how much I’d hated myself until I realized I was able to look at myself full on in the mirror now.

“And now I spend my days trying to get little shits to learn the same things that I did. Part of why I teach sports, too, lots of toxic shit in there and it really just hurts the guys who perpetrate it, all that hatred stewing inside them and it’s really just a way to get out the anger they feel at themselves for whatever reason. Letting other people be who they are means you realize you can be whoever you are and you won’t get punished for it and that’s hugely freeing for people.”

Wyatt seemed to realize how much he’d been talking, went pink, and quickly grabbed his water to gulp some down.

Lucy could feel a fond smile stretching across her face, and caught a similar one on Flynn’s face as well.

“And yet,” Jess drawled, “he’s still single. Lucy, you said you left your boyfriend, I take it you’re still single?”

“Shockingly, yes,” Lucy said, barely resisting the urge to kick both Wyatt and Flynn under the table.

“And you? Flynn?” Jess asked. Her eyes fell down to his left hand. “I thought Wyatt told me you weren’t married but…”

Flynn cleared his throat quietly. “I, uh… she died. Ten years ago, now.” A bittersweet smile tugged the corner of his mouth upward. “Took me a long time to get over it. Went on possibly the biggest depression bender known to man, eventually found my way out. Threw myself into my work, got my two PhDs, did some fellowships, now I’m here.”

“God knows why,” Wyatt said. “I fucking love this place, it’s my home, but the platform for award-winning academics it is not.”

“Well, we can change that,” Lucy pointed out. She’d inherited a few things from Carol, at least, and that included a genuine habit for overachieving.

“This place is quiet,” Flynn said. “I wanted that. It’s peaceful, lots of nature around, very good liberal arts program, and making a real name for itself for inclusion and progressiveness. I wanted to be somewhere I could help make a mark and a personal impact, not teaching to a big lecture hall.”

“And when you’ve seen one Ivy League you’ve seen ‘em all?” Wyatt joked.

“He has seen them all,” Lucy replied.

“You looked up my bio?”

“I felt like throwing myself off a cliff that day,” she shot back.

“This is precious,” Jess declared. “I love it. I want popcorn. I would like to say, though, Flynn—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any hurtful memories.”

“It’s all right.” Flynn looked down at his plate. “I’ve gotten to the point where… remembering them is never going to completely stop hurting, it’s always going to be a bit… bittersweet. But it’s like glass. Sharp, and then you turn it over and over and over again and the edges dull. Once I never would’ve thought I was ready to move on, in any way.”

“Them?” Lucy asked. “I’m sorry, I thought—were you—ah—poly?”

“Oh, ah, I mean, I would be, that’s something I’m—I’m open to, but no I meant—I meant my wife and daughter. Sorry. I had a daughter as well. They died in a car crash.”

Wyatt’s fork clattered to his plate as it slipped through his fingers. Lucy felt about the same, although she didn’t have any silverware to drop.

“Oh my God,” Jess blurted out.

“Garcia…” Lucy put her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nobody knew.” Flynn shrugged. “I don’t really make a point to mention it. You all have nothing to apologize for. I’ve found some measure of peace with it, even if it did take nearly a decade.”

She’d had the impression already that Flynn was someone who felt emotions deeply, destructively at times, more than most people. She hadn’t stopped to consider what that might mean when applied to someone he loved.

And she’d dared to hope that she might be worthy of that kind of devotion?

Foolish, foolish girl.

“Changing subjects before we embarrass Flynn into quitting,” Wyatt said quickly, “Jess, are you going to eat that pudding?”

“Nah, you can have it.”

“Hold on,” Lucy protested. “I called dibs on desserts nobody ate.”

Flynn just grabbed the pudding without a word.

Lucy grabbed her fork. “I _will_ stab you.”

Jess grinned. “You three are just adorable. Seriously, does this place sell popcorn?”

 

* * *

_Three Months Ago_

Flynn was just leaving his office when Lucy grabbed his arm. “Flynn, I need you.”

…he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t ever imagined her saying that to him, albeit under very different circumstances. “What’s up?”

“Amy is visiting,” Lucy said, “but I forgot that I promised Wyatt I’d pick Jess up from the airport for him.”

“Why would you need me? They’re both at the airport, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but I don’t want Jess to be the third wheel while Amy and I catch up. Do you think you could come with me and chat with Jess? Help her feel less left out? You two seemed to get along when she visited last time.”

It was true—he was fond of Jess. She was acerbic, funny, straightforward, and made a mean cocktail. And he couldn’t ever say no to Lucy. “All right. Let me just finish locking up.”

Lucy squeezed his arm, beaming. “You’re the best.”

God, he was such a sucker.

The drive was rather quiet. Flynn offered to drive and Lucy seemed grateful for it—he knew she’d been spending a lot of late nights in the office, struggling with her PhD. They’d always been comfortable with silence together, though. It was something he appreciated about Lucy and his relationship with her.

Even if he never got anything more, she was a good friend.

A song came over the radio—one that Flynn recognized. _I Wished on the Moon_ , done by Billie Holliday and then later Bing Crosby. Flynn preferred the Holliday, personally.

He hummed along without really thinking about it, stopping when he saw Lucy watching him. “Lorena used to hum this,” he explained. “It would drive me nuts.”

“My mom would sing this as a lullaby,” Lucy admitted. She breathed slowly. “It sucks. I have so many good memories of her as a kid. But they’re… now they’re tainted by all the shit she’s pulled.”

Flynn hoped, for Carol’s sake, that he never met her. “I haven’t… had the same situation as you. But I hope… that the negative fades, the way the grief has for me, so that you can remember the good times without guilt.”

Lucy smiled softly, gazing out the window. “You know, I thought you were such an asshole when I first met you.” She turned to look at him. “Now I think you’re one of the kindest.”

Flynn had no fucking clue what to say to that.

They continued in silence until they got the airport, where Jess and Amy were both waiting at the curb. Flynn frowned. “Looks like they’re already talking.”

Lucy peered through the windshield. “Huh. Look at that.”

Jess was standing rather close to Amy, who was slightly shorter and gazing up at her with this dazed sort of smile. Jess took a lock of Amy’s hair and wound it around her finger, taking another small step inward…

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Lucy blurted out. “Does she have to find someone to bang everywhere she goes!?”

“Jess?”

“No, Amy!” Lucy reached across him and blared the horn.

Jess and Amy both jumped a mile, then turned and saw the car. Jess waved.

Amy flipped her sister off.

“Hey, guys!” Jess said, opening the back door and climbing in as Flynn got out of the car to put the luggage in the trunk. “Great to see you! Thanks for picking me up, Wyatt said he had some meeting?”

“A kid was caught plagiarizing, they had the big talk today,” Lucy explained.

“Luce!” Amy tackle-hugged her sister. “And this must be the infamous Flynn.”

“I’m infamous?” Flynn asked, curiosity piqued.

“Oh, yes,” Amy said wickedly right before Lucy shoved her into the backseat.

“I complained about you a lot at first,” Lucy admitted, her cheeks flushing. “Ignore whatever she says, she’s exaggerating.”

Amy had chosen to get into the middle seat, right next to Jess, rather than sitting in the other window seat. Flynn didn’t say anything, but Lucy was glaring daggers through the windshield as she did up her seatbelt.

“So, Jess,” Amy said breathlessly, “you were surrounded by members of the Russian mafia…”

“Hey, Lucy, great to see you for the first time in months!” Lucy said.

Flynn grinned. Lucy turned her glare on him. He shrugged. “And here you thought Jess was going to be the third wheel.”

“I will break into your office and burn your diplomas,” Lucy hissed.

Wyatt met them at the parking lot when they pulled in. He actually looked dressed up, or at least as dressed up as Wyatt got, wearing a casual button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his hair actually combed and a pair of nice, dark jeans instead of ratty ones. Probably for the meeting, Flynn figured—but damn, he couldn’t help but imagine Wyatt dressing up like that for a date. That shirt would be real fun to unbutton and slide off his shoulders…

Jess hugged Wyatt hello, and Amy and Wyatt shook hands as they were introduced, and Wyatt hugged Lucy in thanks for doing this.

“Why do I feel like I’ve missed something important?” he whispered in Flynn’s ear as he hugged him in thanks. “Lucy’s annoyed and Jess is acting—I know how Jess acts when she wants to fuck someone.”

“Jess and Amy met while waiting for the car,” Flynn explained, pulling back a little but his arm still around Wyatt’s waist, Wyatt’s hand resting on his shoulder. “Hit it off in a big way, Lucy’s annoyed that Amy’s flirting when she’s come to visit her.”

Wyatt winced. “Amy’s exactly Jess’s type,” he admitted quietly.

“By the looks of things, Jess is Amy’s.”

“I told Lucy,” Amy was saying, “she can be the one in charge of having grandbabies and I will just be the cool wine aunt.”

“Would you ever want kids again?” Wyatt asked, his voice still soft.

“Someday,” Flynn said. “If I met the right person. Or people.”

“You boys finished with your homoerotic hugging session?” Jess asked. “Or are you going to upgrade to kissing each other’s cheeks hello now?”

Wyatt jumped, stepped back from Flynn like he’d been burned, and glared at Jess with the force of a thousand suns. “Just for that, Jess, you can carry your own luggage.”

“We should all get dinner together!” Amy said excitedly. “I’ve been dying to meet you, Wyatt, and Flynn, Lucy’s told me so much about you guys I feel like I already know you both.”

Flynn certainly didn’t have any evening plans. He looked at Lucy.

Lucy smiled resignedly. “Sounds like a fun time.”

“They definitely are going to fuck,” Wyatt announced three hours later as they lounged in the party booth in the back of the restaurant. Jess and Amy were at the bar, getting some more drinks. Flynn had never been a big drinker so he’d volunteered to be the designated driver.

Lucy lightly smacked Wyatt’s arm. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, and my ex-girlfriend, I know all of her moves.”

Lucy groaned. “I just hope this one lasts. Amy tends to just break hearts. And dicks.”

“Did not need to know that,” Flynn commented.

“How does she get laid so easily that’s my question,” Wyatt muttered.

“I keep offering, Logan, and yet…”

Wyatt glared at him.

 

* * *

 

Over at the bar, Amy jerked her head towards the table. “You’re right. They are all so besotted over each other.”

“And yet I can’t get them to make a move,” Jess complained. “It’s been nine months, you’d think one of them would’ve just thrown caution to the wind and kissed one of the others by now.”

“Lucy’s really self-deprecating. She probably thinks the men are just into each other and not her.”

“Wyatt’s the same. After he realized what a jerk he used to be… he’s not anymore but he still sees himself as not good enough for anyone to actually want to date.”

“Lucy told me Flynn’s really awkward. She thought he was an asshole for the first six months.”

“Wyatt has yet to figure out Flynn’s serious when he hits on him,” Jess admitted.

Amy sighed. “What are we going to do?”

Jess took their drinks from the bartender, passing Amy hers. “We’re going to finish these, go home, I’m going to fuck you through the mattress, and we can matchmake in the morning.”

Amy grinned. “I’ll drink to that.”

They clinked glasses.

 

* * *

_Fifteen Years Ago_

Lorena had been in labor for a long time.

Flynn held her hand, pushing her hair back out of her face, urging her to push and soothing her as best he could, but ultimately he was helpless. He’d never felt so… so incapable of doing anything.

But at last—at last, the baby was out.

Their baby. His child.

He kissed Lorena’s forehead, squeezing her hand. “You did so well,” he whispered. “You were amazing, I’m so, so proud of you.”

“Let’s get mom cleaned up a little,” one of the nurses said. “Here, would you like to hold her?”

Flynn felt his hands shaking a little as the tiny bundle—so tiny, so fragile—was carefully placed in his arms. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed to show her to Lorena. They’d picked out some names beforehand, so they’d be prepared.

“It’s a girl,” he whispered, adjusting the blankets so the baby’s face could be better seen. “Say hi to your Mama, Iris.”

Lorena reached out, taking Iris’s tiny hand, kissing it. Flynn’s heart swelled impossibly full.

He’d have died for Lorena, really, he would have. But in that moment he’d known—he’d do that and more for this precious creature in his arms right now.

 

* * *

_Thirteen and a Half Years Ago_

“Wyatt,” Denise said.

Wyatt’s head jerked up. He looked around the classroom and realized that everyone else was leaving.

“Class is over,” Denise said, her voice gentling.

“Oh, right, sorry.” He gathered up his books. “I got distracted, sorry.”

“I noticed.” Denise’s voice was dry but not unkind. She stood up and walked over, meeting Wyatt halfway as he started to leave. “What’s on your mind?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Nothing.”

Denise raised her eyebrows. “You should know by now that you can’t lie to me, Wyatt. What’s going on?”

He sighed. “Jess broke up with me.”

Denise hummed. “You two have been together a long time.”

“Since high school. Five years.”

Denise nodded. “Tell you what. Why don’t you stop by my house tonight for dinner. Michelle told me she’s making chicken pesto. We can talk about it then.”

Wyatt was taken aback. “Are—are you sure?”

He’d basically resigned himself to a semester of being alone. Since Jess had broken up with him he'd been pretty damn fucking miserable and he hadn't seen it changing any time soon. Dave was a nice guy and they were friendly but Wyatt was realizing in the wake of his shifting viewpoints that he didn’t know who he was, and he no longer knew how to interact with other people as a result. The only one he had known how to interact with was Jess and… apparently he’d fucked that one all up.

He didn’t know why Denise was so kind to him. But he also really, really appreciated it.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Denise said. “I’ll email you directions to my house, it’s just a ten minute walk from here. Be there at six.”

Wyatt stared after her as she left the classroom. Well, all right then.


	6. Chapter 6

_Twelve Years Ago_

 

“Nice shirt,” was the first thing Jess said when she opened the door to his insistent knocking.

Wyatt had worn it specifically for this occasion. He’d gotten it off the internet just last week. It said: _Boys Will Be ~~Boys~~ Feminists_

“Yeah, I, uh, I thought it would help,” he said. “Show you that I’m serious about having changed.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I gave you apology after apology, and words just weren’t going to cut it anymore to prove I’d really done some growth.”

Jess seemed to consider that. “Your dorm’s across campus.”

“Yeah.”

“You walked all the way across campus wearing that?”

Wyatt nodded.

“Did you wear a jacket over it?”

“No.”

Jess eyed him a moment longer, then opened the door wider. “You may enter.”

Wyatt walked in, hands shoved into his pockets. “You got a single.”

“Yeah.”

“Nice.”

“I heard you uh… joined the LGBT+ club.”

“Yup.” Jess folded her arms. “After you have enough drunken hook ups with women you start to realize you’re not so straight after all.”

“Tell that to Katy Perry.”

Jess snorted with laughter, a tentative smile curling up the corner of her mouth. “You haven’t joined.”

“No. Denise wants me to but I’m still having a hard time… making friends.” Wyatt winced. “I realized I didn’t have anyone in my life besides you. Which isn’t healthy.”

“No, it isn’t.” Jess sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed and gesturing for him to sit down in her desk chair. “We were really codependent.”

“Denise has lectured me about that a few times,” Wyatt admitted sheepishly.

“You’ve been going over to their house a lot, I’ve seen you walking over there.”

“Yeah, for dinner once a week. Her wife’s really nice, Michelle, she works in the school’s administration office.” Wyatt paused. “Look, I still don’t know why Denise gives me all this time. Or why she gives it to a lot of the other students, because we’re all little shits. But she’s really given some good time to me and she looks out for me and she’s really smacked me around when I needed it. And she’s shown me with Michelle how two people in a relationship should behave and I was… I was awful.

“I was everything that you said I was. And I… it was because you were all the family I had. Gramps died and Mom skipped out and, I mean, you know my dad. You were everything and I’m not saying that as an excuse, just an explanation, and it was wrong of me to treat you like that because I was so scared of losing you.

“I know that you don’t love me like… like that anymore, but I do still consider you family. I’d like the chance to rebuild that and to become friends again. If you don’t want that, I understand, and I won’t bother you again. But I just wanted to… to see if there was a chance. Because you’re still family to me, Jess, and you always will be. And, uh, you promised you’d take me to the ceremony when you won the Pulitzer so.”

Jess huffed out a laugh. “I did promise you that.” She smiled at him, considering. “That was the best apology you’ve ever given me.” She paused. “No, wait, that’s the only proper apology you’ve ever given me.”

“I could make it a better apology by buying you a milkshake?”

Jess gave a put-upon sigh and then stood up. “If you insist, I suppose.”

Wyatt grinned, jumping up. “Oh, I picked my majors. Sports and gender studies.”

“Not mechanics?” Jess teased.

It wasn’t… perfect. He knew he still had to do a lot of work. But. It was a start.

It was a good start.

 

* * *

_One and a Half Years Ago_

Lucy dreamed of strawberry milkshakes.

The reason for this became apparent when she woke up to find that Amy was sleeping next to her, and that, just like when they were children, Lucy had wrapped her arms around her and buried her nose in Amy’s hair, inhaling the scent of Amy’s strawberry shampoo.

But Amy hadn’t had a nightmare in years. So why was she in Lucy’s bed?

Lucy slowly sat up, her head spinning, and she had to squint as the sunlight tried to get in and kill her. Oh, God, she’d had way too much to drink last night.

She dimly recalled vomiting…

…all over Noah.

Oh _fuck_.

Amy stirred slowly, getting that adorable forehead furrow before opening her eyes and slowly smiling up at her. “Morning. Thought you’d sleep in a little longer.”

“Amy,” Lucy said slowly. It was like someone had lodged an icepick behind her right eyebrow, _ugh_. “What happened last night?”

“You were doing one of your drunk thingies,” Amy said, sitting up. “And you and Noah had an argument and you threw up on him. So I got home, and saw him without a shirt and you crying and yelling, and asked what was going on, and you said that Mom had used him to get you to move back here from Europe, and something about how you’d never been to Greece—I think that was the alcohol talking, you were kind of just listing off places in Europe you hadn’t been yet—and that Noah was a pushover who did whatever Mom wanted and you could never marry that and your relationship was built on lies and Mom’s fingers were all over it, and then you threw up again, and then I told Noah he should sleep in my room and I’d sleep here with you, and then you cried and cried for an hour and then realized you hadn’t done your drunk video and cried over disappointing your viewers, and you started showing me all the very nice comments—I think that one guy, the Shakespeare quote one, I think he’s in love with you but in like a not-creepy way—and then you started telling me that Thomas Jefferson was an asshole and then you fell asleep.”

Lucy rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Oh, God, that all sounds horribly accurate.”

Amy gently brushed her hand through Lucy’s hair. “Y’know, I never said it because he really is a nice guy, but Noah’s not enough for you.”

“Not enough?”

Amy shrugged. “You need someone with more fire. He’s kind and smart and stable and sweet… and you do need sweet. You need someone you can boss around and who’ll be soft and all with you but you also need someone who challenges you and gets your fire going. Y’know, someone you can have a good rousing argument over the Napoleon with.”

“You want me to find another history nerd.”

“I mean it might help.” Amy smiled.

Lucy sighed. God, this headache hurt. “I’m just… I’m so angry. I gave up my life and delayed my dissertation to come over here, and Mom… Mom’s just stonewalling me on it, I know she is, and she used Noah to hook me in and bring me back here under her thumb and… it’s like how many times am I going to fall for it, y’know?” She sank back into the pillows, letting Amy keep playing with her hair. “And I just. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t see that, who doesn’t see how she pulls shit like that.”

Amy hummed. “Sounds to me like you need to find a new job.”

“What about my PhD?”

Amy shrugged. “You can change your topic, right? If you’re sick of doing what Mom wants and all.”

“God.” Lucy clapped her hands over her face. “That’ll be years of work down the drain.”

“But you won’t have to think about Mom every time you look at your research or your paper.”

…true. She’d been the one who’d let herself get dragged into this with her mother. Not that her mother’s manipulation was her fault or anything but. Maybe this was the price she had to pay for freedom, a clean start, even if it was just in her own mind.

“Who would even take me?”

“Small schools, probably. They’re a lot more flexible. Probably in the middle of nowhere or something but maybe some peace and quiet will be good.” Amy took Lucy’s hand, squeezing gently. “You need to get out of here, babe. I can handle Mom. You can’t.”

It was disappointingly true. Amy fought back at Mom like a hissing cat, but she also accepted Mom’s behavior with a cheery grace, like water off a duck’s back, in a way that Lucy just… couldn’t. She still felt every barb, every backhanded compliment, every blow.

She had to get away.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She looked up at Amy. “I’d be moving away again. And I wouldn’t be visiting.”

“I’ll visit you,” Amy promised. “You do what you have to do. And being here obviously isn’t what’ll really make you happy. I mean you’re content here but content isn’t happy, and you deserve happy.”

Lucy smiled. “You’re the best, don’t know if I’ve told you that.”

“Good. I’d hate to think there was another sister out there stealing all my hard-earned winnings.” Amy got up out of bed. “I’ll make you breakfast?”

Lucy’s stomach turned over.

“…no.”

 

* * *

_One Month Ago_

Lucy barreled down the hallway, yanking open the door to Flynn’s office. “Garcia!”

He wasn’t there. Hmm.

She barreled down the hallway, down the stairs, around the corner and into the break room. A-ha!

“Garcia!” She ran up, grabbing Flynn’s arm, making him nearly drop his coffee.

“Where’s the fire?” he asked, smiling at her.

“I’ve decided on a PhD topic,” she told him. “You were right, I’m sick of American history, I studied in Europe, damn it, I’m going to do my PhD on Josephine Baker.”

“Wasn’t she American?”

“Yes, but she spent the majority of her time in Paris.” She couldn’t stop grinning. “I had such a crush on her as a teenager.”

“Well, hey, I knew you could think of something.” Flynn put his hand on her shoulder. “You just needed to believe in yourself again.”

She was grinning up at him, and he was smiling down at her and looking so goddamn proud and pleased for her, and they were standing rather close, and she could smell the coffee on him, and she wanted—she wanted so very badly and maybe it was a bad idea but Flynn’s gaze was dropping down to her mouth and she thought _oh, oh maybe—_

Flynn’s eyes went wide and he took a step back. “I should—”

Wyatt entered, wearing a shirt sporting Deadpool in a seductive pose on a bearskin rug, a plaid button up shirt over it, and his glasses pushed up into his hair as he rubbed at his eyes. “Why did I become a teacher, why did I sign up to deal with barely-legal assholes,” he muttered, dropping his hand away from his eyes.

He saw the other two and paused, his gaze flicking back and forth. Flynn looked actually guilty, like he’d gone so far as to kiss Lucy instead of, gasp, only thinking about it for ten seconds before turning tail.

Something flickered in Wyatt’s eyes, something like… disappointment, or hurt, looking first at Flynn and then at her and the hurt was equal for both of them, the sheer _longing_ on his face—and then Flynn was grabbing his coffee and saying something in Croatian, realizing it was in Croatian and not English, wincing, and then hurrying out of the room.

“Did you two just…?” Wyatt asked. He sounded like he was asking if they’d assigned the date for his execution by guillotine.

Lucy looked at the doorway Flynn had just fled through. She looked over at Wyatt. Then she looked back at the doorway.

It was entirely possible that she had been an idiot.

In fact, it was entirely possible that all three of them had been idiots for some time.


	7. Chapter 7

_Seven Years Ago_

Wyatt took a deep breath.

First day of class.

He didn’t know how Denise did it every day. This was terrifying, even more terrifying than when he’d been a student. He was responsible for helping these kids learn and praying that they would actually walk away with stuff they would remember, stuff they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. He was responsible for _educating_ them.

Jesus fuck.

But he’d worked hard to get this job, and he couldn’t disappoint Denise by backing out and hiding under the bed instead, so here he was. He had his syllabus all picked out and approved, he had lectures and interactive quizzes and PowerPoint presentations, he was ready to verbally kick the misogyny out of the students… he was as ready as he was ever going to be. If he could be for just one student what Denise had been for him and so many others… then he’d know he’d done the right thing in this. He wanted to help kids who were once scared and angry and narrow-minded the way that he had been.

But he couldn’t do that if he let fear win.

So he took a deep breath, tried not to look obviously like he was clutching his books to his chest like a Victorian maiden with her smelling salts, and walked into the classroom.

He’d debated for a long time on which shirt to wear, finally settling on one that would be subtle, but still carry a message:

_I’ve Got 99 Solutions and They All Involve Smashing the Patriarchy_

He could see the eyes of some of his students bugging out as they read that when he walked in. “Okay, maggots,” he said, setting his books down on the desk. “We’re going to start with a quick quiz to find out what you think you know about gender.”

 

* * *

_Three Months Ago – Lucy_

Lucy hugged Amy goodbye at the airport. “I hope you had fun.”

“I did.”

“I meant aside from when you were sleeping with Jess.”

Amy blushed. “She’s going to come and see me out in California. She knows some people in New Zealand, she said if I was really interested in moving there she could possibly hook me up. She’s really… I really like her.”

Lucy knew that while her own love life consisted of one girlfriend in college and Noah, Amy’s love life consisted of going on dates and hook ups all the time and becoming bored with the person within a week. If Jess honestly held Amy’s attention and excited her and was the reason her sister now had a soft, sparkling look in her eyes…

“I can tell,” Lucy said with a laugh. “You look all starry-eyed.”

“You should talk, I’ve seen you look at Flynn and Wyatt.”

Lucy felt herself blushing. “That’s just… that’s just a silly crush, it’s…”

“A silly crush?” Amy raised an eyebrow. “Right, because a silly crush is why they look at you like you hung the moon and stars and why Flynn knows exactly what kind of coffee to get you and knows your whole class schedule and walks you back and forth from your house and eats lunch with you everyday and is helping you with your PhD. And a silly crush is totally why Wyatt brings you lunch on the days when you’re too busy to get it yourself and sends you crappy jokes to make you laugh and frantically finger-combs his hair and checks the mirror to see if he looks okay when he sees you coming towards him and why he blushes at literally every time you touch him.”

Lucy swallowed. “They like each other, Amy. Flynn makes Wyatt’s coffee for him every morning. God knows how he even found out Wyatt likes hazelnut in it and enough whipped cream to kill a horse but he always brings or makes one for him. Wyatt would walk on water if Flynn asked him to.”

“But you like both of them,” Amy said gently. “Who says they both don’t like you and each other? Who says there’s a limit on love?”

Lucy bit her lip. “Amy—the last time—”

“Noah was a disappointment. I know. He was safe and predictable and he was what Mom wanted. But this isn’t like that. Mom’s not here. She’s not controlling you or anyone else anymore. You can have this, Lucy, if you want it.” Amy took her by the shoulders, peering into her face. “Do you love them?”

Lucy nodded, her throat tight.

“Then go get them.”

 

* * *

_Three Months Ago – Wyatt_

Wyatt yawned as he stepped into the humanities building. He’d had to take Jess early to the airport this morning and he’d stayed up way too late last night with her swapping stories back and forth after she’d snuck back to his house from being with Amy.

He was happy for her, really he was. Jess lit up around Amy in a way that Wyatt had never seen when she’d talked about her flings to him. Jess hadn’t had a serious relationship since Wyatt—said she was too busy with her work, and that the right thing would come along when it came along and she wasn’t going to force it.

Well, looked like that right thing had come along.

But God, he could barely keep his fucking eyes open…

“Whoa, hey, careful.” Flynn put a steadying hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “You’re about to run into a door there.”

“Ugh, sorry. I think I’m just gonna pop a documentary on for class today, I can’t fucking think straight.” Wyatt heard the pun and grinned. “Not that I ever think straight.”

Flynn rolled his eyes but Wyatt could see him struggling to hide in a smile. “Very funny. Here.” He passed him a coffee. “This’ll help.”

“Thanks.” Wyatt took a sip. Shot of hazelnut and a shit ton of whipped cream. God, why had he ever taken his coffee black?

Oh, right, trying to be ‘manly’.

“You need a seeing eye dog to get to class?” Flynn asked. “Or is it safe for me to let you figure it out yourself?”

“Har, har. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.” Flynn squeezed his shoulder gently and then let go.

Wyatt took another sip of the coffee. He wasn’t sure when Flynn had started bringing them to him but God he loved him for it—

…oh.

Okay, so, maybe he wasn’t _just_ lusting after his two coworkers and maybe he was a lot more screwed than he’d previously thought.

 

* * *

_Three Months Ago – Flynn_

“Soooo…” Jiya said, hopping up onto Flynn’s desk as he sorted some papers. “How’d meeting the families go?”

He looked up at her. “What?”

For someone who worked in the science buildings, Jiya sure spent a lot of time in the humanities department bugging him. Not that he minded. Iris would’ve been only ten years younger than Jiya, had she lived, and a lot of Jiya reminded him of Iris. Not that that was the only reason why he cared about her.

“Amy and Jess,” Jiya said patiently, like she was explaining two plus two to a toddler. “How’d it go, meeting them?”

“You make it sound like I should be nervous.”

“Well, when you meet the family of the people you’re in love with, you want to make a good impression, don’t you?”

Flynn didn’t reply. He wasn’t dating Lucy or Wyatt, despite his deep and hopeless feelings for both of them.

“I’m not hearing a denial,” Jiya said, sing-song. “Does this mean you’re finally admitting you want them?”

“Anyone who’s heard me talk to Wyatt knows I’ve made several offers to fuck him.”

“No, I don’t mean just sex. I mean you want to marry them and have babies with them and push them around in wheelchairs and scatter their ashes.”

Flynn glared at her. All right, so maybe that was true, but… “Wyatt hates my guts and is in love with Lucy.”

“Wyatt wants you to raw him into next week,” Jiya replied.

Flynn closed his eyes. “Please never say that again.”

“I am become the Oracle, deliverer of harsh truths! All shall love me and despair! Oedipus will have sex with his mother and kill his father and Wyatt and Lucy want you to bang them for the rest of your ridiculous lives!” Jiya intoned.

“You missed your calling in theatre.”

“And you just missed the Lord of the Rings quote so whatever.” Jiya hopped off his desk. “You should tell them how you feel. They’re both head over heels for you.”

She reached out, gently squeezed his arm, and left.

Flynn went back to his papers. He was well aware what his skill sets in life were, and they were suited to two things: fighting wars and academia. How he’d managed to land Lorena he still didn’t know, otherwise he’d attempt to replicate it with Lucy and Wyatt, but they were in love with each other and anybody with eyes could see that and he wasn’t going to let himself get set up for false hope.

His heart just wasn’t strong enough for that.

 

* * *

_One Week Ago_

This could, quite possibly, horribly backfire on her.

Or it could turn her year-long fantasy of being fucked by two hugely attractive men that she’d also along the way fallen in love with into a reality.

Wyatt had been sweet from the beginning and she’d come to love his lack of shame about himself, his passion for helping his students, and the way he got so soft for her and Flynn, the way he eagerly would follow their lead.

Flynn—Flynn she’d wanted to fucking strangle for the first few months but now she couldn’t imagine getting through her day without him.

And somebody had to do something and it clearly wasn’t going to be either of the men.

So she put on a skirt that morning, waited until the empty period in between her classes and Flynn’s advising sessions, and went and knocked on his office door.

“Come in,” Flynn called.

Lucy stepped inside, closing the door behind her and flipping the lock. Flynn was sitting at his desk and glaring at something on his computer—probably a student’s email. His face cleared when he looked up and saw who it was. “Lucy.”

She walked over, her heart feeling like a large fluttering moth in her chest, trying to find the light. “Garcia.”

She’d never called him by his first name before. The shock on Flynn’s face almost made the fear worth it.

“If…” She took a deep, steadying breath. “If I’m wrong about this, then I’m so sorry and I’ll never cross the line again. But…”

Flynn’s brows drew together in confusion as she walked around the desk, pushed his chair back—sat in his lap and kissed him.

There were about ten horrifying seconds where Flynn did a marvelous job of acting like a block of ice, and she thought that she had been wrong, that Amy had been wrong, that Flynn only wanted Wyatt—

Then Flynn made a startled noise in the back of his throat as though he was only just realizing that this was actually, really happening. One hand tentatively landed on her knee while the other came up to cup her cheek as he softened, his mouth musing against hers, drawing her into a deeper kiss.

Lucy let out a small whimper of relief, tears nearly springing into her eyes as Flynn kissed back, kissed her back with a thorough gentleness that suggested he’d been thinking of this for as long as she had.

She couldn’t stop kissing him. Just once more, just once more, just once more… Her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket (she wasn’t sure if he was just being hopelessly European or what but his knit sweaters and turtlenecks were about as casual as Flynn got at work, usually he wore a suit) and tugged him closer. Flynn’s hand slid a little up her leg and then froze, like he wasn’t sure this was allowed.

Lucy yanked her mouth back, grabbed his wrist, and drew his hand all the way up her thigh, underneath her skirt. Flynn’s eyes were locked on hers, a wounded noise escaping him as his thumb brushed the lining of her underwear.

The hand that had been cupping her cheek gently slid up to tangle in her hair, petting through, combing, and still Flynn’s gaze searched hers in a puzzled sort of way.

She decided to take pity on him. Maybe this was just sex for him but she suspected that Flynn was incapable of ‘just sex’ with anyone. “I’ve wanted to do that for months,” she whispered.

Flynn glanced away. “Lucy you… there’s something you need to know.” She felt him inhaling, his fingers shaking slightly where they held her. He looked back up at her. “I fell in love with you, through your videos. I was… I was in darkness, and I didn’t know what to do, I was considering suicide to join my family, I was lost, and I stumbled on your videos and they were—you were—a guiding light. I started watching them, and I remembered why I loved academia, and I kept watching them when I returned to work, I tuned in every week when you uploaded a new one, and I—I know it’s not—I didn’t really know you, not really, it wasn’t seeing all of you but it was enough and then—then when I did meet you and start working with you I fell in love with you all over again.”

Lucy didn’t know what to do with that level of devotion. How—how could she possibly invoke that kind of—how could she earn that—

“You’re crying,” Flynn noted, dumbfounded, brushing away the tears that slid down her cheeks.

She kissed him, fiercely, wrapping her arms around his neck. Oh, God, she was never letting him go. “I love you,” she whispered into his mouth.

Flynn froze again for a moment, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly, and then he was kissing her back and it wasn’t slow or gentle at all, it was all-consuming and fire and sparks and slick and she really needed him to fuck her, right here, right now.

Lucy yanked at him, pushing his hand up more so that he could feel how wet she was getting, tugging at his tie in an attempt to undo it. “I locked the door,” she whispered. “I locked it, I know you don’t have an appointment for an hour, Garcia, please—”

“I feel like I should tell you that you need to buy me dinner first,” Flynn noted with an amused rumble.

“Try that line on Wyatt, he’d actually appreciate it,” she quipped.

Flynn froze again. “Oh God—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she laughed breathlessly, finally managing to get his damn tie and jacket off. “It’s okay, I love him too, I want both of you, we can fuck him after, just—”

Flynn got his hands under her thighs and lifted her up, laying her out on the desk and pushing her skirt up. Lucy yanked his shirt open, hoping she hadn’t popped any buttons, sliding her hands over his chest. She’d always known he had muscle hiding under there, thank fuck, she wanted to get her mouth all over that—

He pushed her hands away and then got down on his knees, tugging her underwear off. Lucy just about lost her mind when she felt his mouth on her thighs.

“Garcia—”

Flynn took his time, working his way up to her, and she could not be blamed for getting a handful of his hair and knocking some papers to the floor when the tip of his tongue lightly lapped at her clit. “Oh my God, oh my _God_ —” She wanted him inside her right the fuck now but she also didn’t want him to stop, not when he was doing that—oh God that thing what—oh holy _fuck_ —

It felt like she’d been punched in the gut by her orgasm. Jesus _Christ_.

She could feel Flynn’s pleased smirk against her skin right before he pushed back up and she could kiss it off his face, her hands roaming all over him. “You’re a bastard,” she whispered, undoing his pants as Flynn braced on the desk.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” Flynn replied, completely unashamed, and she shivered all over again.

“Feel free to do it any time you want,” she told him, wrapping her hand around his cock and stroking slowly, teasing.

Flynn made a strangled sort of moan and kissed her, then moved his mouth down her neck, uncaring if he left any marks. Lucy spread her legs, guiding him to her. She wanted, she wanted, she wanted—

She lost all the air in her lungs as he slid into her, her heart hammering in her chest as she felt him slowly stretching her, careful as ever in how fast he moved. It had been over a year since she’d done anything with Noah and he’d been the last, but she had a feeling that even if she’d had sex yesterday, this with Flynn would still feel overwhelming.

Lucy kissed his neck, his jaw, his lips as he settled into her, the both of them getting a grip on the sensation, on the feeling of connecting.

Flynn brushed her hair out of her face, kissing her softly. “You good?” he whispered.

She nodded, smiling helplessly. “I’m great.”

Flynn kissed her again, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, teasing, as he tentatively thrust into her. Lucy gave a small little moan as she felt him all over, felt him in what felt like the back of her throat. Flynn was careful in his movements, shifting angle slightly—until he found the one that made her claw at his shoulders and whisper _there, there, yes_.

Then he wasn’t careful at all.

Lucy dug her heel into his ass, urging him on, striping up his shoulders and definitely leaving at least one bite mark on his neck as she struggled to hold in her noises. Someone, anyone, oh God Mason could walk by, and getting caught fucking your coworker was bad enough but getting caught by the Dean had to be the worst, but oh God it felt so good, so so good, she’d known it would be good and she never wanted it to stop God yes don’t stop don’t stop don’t _stop_.

Flynn buried his face into her neck, biting, shoving into her, his body giving a shiver that she echoed, her eyes just about rolling back into her head. They were doing this every damn day if she had anything to say about it.

Flynn made a helpless noise, shaking as he spilled into her, and she gently raked her hand through the hair at the back of his head, soothing him as she came down from her own high.

She couldn’t feel her toes. Goddamn.

“You all right?” Flynn whispered, his accent thick and words slurred.

Lucy gave a soft laugh. “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“It’s been a…” Flynn made a face. “…while.”

She kissed him. “You wouldn’t know it the way you flirt with that poor boy.”

“Hey, he’s easy to tease,” Flynn replied, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

“Y’know,” she murmured, “next week we have that half day… last class is at noon…”

Flynn grinned and she could see the mischief sparking in his eyes. “Well, then.”

But first—she wanted to kiss him a few more times.

…and then fuck him while he sat in the desk chair.

 

* * *

_Present Day_

 

Wyatt was making sure hadn’t forgotten anything just before he left the classroom for the day when Lucy and Flynn entered.

“Hey.” He grinned, figuring they were going to ask him out to lunch. “What’s up?”

Flynn looked more casual than usual today, still wearing a button-up shirt but no tie, and the sleeves rolled up. Lucy was wearing a dress. That was unusual as well. Lucy dressed up in period clothing when discussing anything from the twenties to the sixties, a clear excuse to wear her vintage outfits, but otherwise she wore dress pants, a blouse, and a blazer, wanting to look professional and serious. This wasn’t period clothing, it was just a light, breezy dress.

She looked damn good in it though.

Lucy walked over, gently taking the papers out of his hands. “We wanted to talk to you about something.”

Wyatt frowned. She sounded serious, her voice gentle like she was scared of upsetting him. “Okay.”

“A week ago, Flynn and I got together.”

Wyatt’s heart sank.

Of course Flynn was in love with Lucy. Everyone knew that. And Lucy was clearly in love with him. Sometimes Wyatt walked into the break room and walked right back out because he saw them standing by the coffee maker talking and smiling softly at each other like nothing else existed and he wasn’t going to get into the middle of that and ruin it.

“That’s great,” he said out loud. He’d learned his lesson long ago from Jess—he didn’t have a right to intrude on this or to act jealous or possessive. It was their right to choose who they wanted to be with, and he wasn’t going to act upset and ruin their happiness. “I’m happy for you guys.”

Lucy gave a small sigh and smiled gently at him, covering his hand on the desk with hers. “You didn’t let me finish. We got together, and we had a talk—about how we have feelings for each other but for you as well. We want it to be all three of us. If you’ll have us.”

Wyatt stared at her for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure he’d heard properly. “Are you—you’re sure?” he asked weakly.

Compared to Lucy and Flynn, he wasn’t sure he was all that great of a catch.

Lucy looked a trifle frustrated, then took his face in her hands and kissed him.

She kissed as softly as he’d always thought she might, at least the first time, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth and then dipping her tongue teasingly between his lips before retreating again, kissing the corner of his mouth and pulling away.

Wyatt stared at her. They’d barely—it was just one kiss and already his chest was heaving like he’d been running a mile. He looked over at Flynn. Was he just doing this for Lucy’s sake? Was he really—

Flynn closed the distance between them, his gaze roaming hungrily up Wyatt’s body until their eyes met. “How about you lock that classroom door,” he said quietly, “and you’ll find out how sure we are.”

Wyatt’s mouth went dry. Holy shit.

He walked over on shaking legs, but he’d barely flipped the lock before Flynn was spinning him around and kissing him.

Wyatt just about melted. Flynn’s kiss was like a brand, like a forest fire.

He shoved at Flynn, trying to get him to move back, but Flynn just caught his wrists and held them, keeping Wyatt in place as he slid his tongue inside and Wyatt forgot he had bones to keep him upright and nearly sank to the floor.

“Boys,” Lucy chastised from the desk.

Flynn wrenched his mouth away. “The second I laid eyes on you I knew I was going to get you here,” Flynn growled, and then he was tugging Wyatt in and kissing him again as he walked him back over to the desk.

Wyatt kissed back hard as Flynn shoved him onto the desk, planting his hands on either side of Wyatt to get leverage and grind against him. Wyatt moaned and he felt another pair of hands, slim ones sliding up and over his shoulders.

“You have to be quiet,” Lucy whispered.

She grabbed Flynn and kissed him, and Wyatt turned his head to check that he’d actually locked the classroom door.

Jesus he was about to get fucked on his desk, in his classroom, in the middle of the day, by the two hottest people he’d ever met.

Nobody was ever going to believe this.

He realized why Lucy and Flynn were wearing these clothes, now, as he and Flynn feverishly shoved each other’s shirts off and Wyatt felt Lucy undoing his pants from behind him, her mouth planting sucking kisses up his neck.

It was because they were easy clothes to take off.

Wyatt twisted, grabbing her, pulling her into his lap. Flynn got a gleam in his eye and spread Lucy’s legs wide as Wyatt slid his hand down her front and then up again, underneath her dress, palming her breast as she got her arm around the back of his head and kissed him like she was going to devour him.

Lucy jerked in his arms and Wyatt laughed breathlessly as he looked down and saw Flynn rubbing her through her underwear. “Is this the kind of thing you thought about?” he asked.

“Like you didn’t think about us fucking you,” Lucy shot back. She moaned as Flynn replaced his fingers with his tongue.

Wyatt slid his free hand down to circle her clit with a finger, then to sink it inside of her. He could feel Flynn licking around his fingers and could imagine that mouth, that tongue, between his legs and he just about lost his goddamn mind.

Lucy shuddered, clawing at Wyatt’s arms. He’d wondered for ages what she would look like in his arms, in Flynn’s arms, and she was just as gorgeous as he’d thought she’d be, gasping and arching as she tugged at Flynn’s hair and viciously kissed Wyatt until she sagged in his arms.

Flynn pulled back and Wyatt slid his fingers out of her as Lucy shook with the aftershocks. “You,” she ordered breathlessly, crooking her finger at Flynn.

He kissed her obligingly and she hummed into his mouth, clearly pleased. “Now,” she whispered, turning to look at Wyatt, “I think it’s your turn.”

…he wasn’t going to survive this and he didn’t mind in the slightest.

Lucy kissed him as he felt Flynn press himself up against him, and oh fuck he was so goddamn hard, and Flynn felt—Jesus that was going to take some time to warm up to and he couldn’t fucking wait. He pawed at Flynn’s pants, finally getting them open, and then Flynn as kissing him as Lucy ran her hands up and down his chest, her mouth working along his shoulder and Flynn was wrapping a hand around their cocks and oh God oh God oh _God_ …

He whined desperately, unashamedly, clinging to Flynn and Lucy both.

“The things I want to do to you…” Flynn murmured, his voice hot in Wyatt’s ear.

“Anything,” Wyatt gulped. Lucy kissed him again and he felt like he was drowning but he never wanted to come up for air. “Anything you want.”

He meant it. He had a rather vivid imagination and he’d had plenty of time—a whole year—to think about what he wanted these two to do to him.

Lucy tugged at his hair sharply, pulling his head back to expose his neck to her mouth, and Wyatt just about went cross-eyed. Flynn’s cock was sliding against his, silky and hot and dear God he wanted that inside of him right fucking now, wanted Flynn filling him up while Lucy kissed him and ordered him around and maybe tied him up—

He came hard enough to stain the desk, which only made Flynn speed up but Wyatt wanted to get in on the fun a little too. He wasn’t some blushing virgin with men—he’d had his own fun experimenting once he’d come out and he and Jess had broken up.

So he sank to his knees, batted Flynn’s hand away, and sucked him down.

Flynn swore violently, but was cut off halfway through by Lucy kissing him with a soft chuckle. Wyatt hollowed out his cheeks, tasting his own come on Flynn’s cock and fuck if that wasn’t a turn on, all three of them messy with each other, his own cock twitching feebly like it would get it up again if it could, and his mouth was being stretched wide and Flynn was trying to tug him away but Wyatt wasn’t having it and then he nearly choked.

Because it had been a few years.

But he did manage to swallow some of it and Flynn looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes glazed, his face flushed and his mouth red and swollen from Lucy’s fervent, persistent kisses.

“Do you have any idea what you _look_ like?” Flynn asked hoarsely, staring down at him.

“Like you just came on my face?” Wyatt asked.

“You really know how to ruin a moment,” Flynn shot back, yanking him to his feet and pressing him into the desk again.

“But you fuck me anyway,” Wyatt replied, stumbling a little as he changed the third word from one starting with L to one starting with F.

Lucy hummed, kissing him—and she must like him if she was willing to kiss him after what he’d just swallowed. “We _love_ you anyway,” she told him, like she was reminding him of an important and unshakeable rule that he’d forgotten.

Wyatt stared at her as she pulled away, then looked at Flynn, then looked back at her. “You’re sure.”

Flynn gently cupped Wyatt’s neck with his hand, his thumb brushing up and down along Wyatt’s pulse point. “Yes. We’re sure.”

Lucy kissed him, and then Flynn, soft and sure. “Now,” she announced. “Time for another fun game.”

“Oh?” Flynn asked.

“It’s called how do we get out of this classroom without everyone immediately knowing that we fucked.”

Wyatt laughed and groaned simultaneously.

This was yet another curveball he hadn’t expected life to throw at him but—God was he glad it had.


	8. Chapter 8

_Epilogue_

Lucy bit her lip trying to hide her smile as she scrolled through the site. “I hate to tell you, Wyatt, but you have indeed been usurped.”

“God dammit,” Wyatt mock-complained, bringing over her mug of coffee. “Years I’ve been the reigning king of hot professors and then Slavic…” He braced a hand on the back of Lucy’s chair and peered over her shoulder to look at the computer screen. “What was it that one student said again?”

“Sex on a Stick, Slavic Edition,” Lucy recited dutifully.

“God bless ratemyprofessor.com,” Wyatt said. “Y’know they’ve got plenty to say about you too. ‘I’d like to thank Rachel Weisz and Lucy Preston for enabling my gay awakening’,” he recited.

“Oh, this one mentions you,” Lucy said. She cleared her throat importantly. “While Professor Logan has that dorky cuteness going for him and I’m a sucker for glasses, I’d have to go with Flynn for sheer make-me-drop-to-my-knees charisma.”

“I will say,” Wyatt noted, “he can keep the ones with the daddy kink. I do not envy him.”

“Should I write one?” Lucy asked, mischievously.

Wyatt looked alarmed. “Um…”

She looked back at the screen—and balked. “Wyatt.”

“What.” He picked her up, sat down on the chair, and pulled her into his lap so they could both look. Lucy pointed at the screen to show her what she’d seen.

_Flynn’s a total twenty out of ten, but what’s even hotter to me is I think he’s taken. Totally saw him going into Professor Preston’s office after hours, if ya know what I mean._

Below it was another comment:

_Um? Not sure why everyone thinks he’s banging Preston when he’s clearly with Logan?_

And below that:

_Oh my God what if it’s both. Can I get in on that sandwich?_

Lucy watched as Wyatt’s eyes literally bugged out. “We can never tell him about this,” he croaked.

“Tell me about what?” Flynn asked, walking over.

Wyatt yelped in surprise and slammed the laptop lid down because Wyatt was the least subtle person on the face of the planet. “Nothing.”

“Have you heard of ratemyprofessor.com?” Lucy asked.

“…no?”

“It’s where you can rate your professors on their teaching skills. Supposedly it gives students a heads up on professors who are great or hardasses or whatever. You can also rate them for… ah… hotness.”

Flynn stared at her for a moment like a computer taking a long time to reboot. “I’m guessing that you were looking at our ratings.”

“Your chili pepper is on fire,” Wyatt said.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“The hotness rating is a chili pepper. If it’s on fire, that means you’ve reached peak hotness, supposedly,” Lucy explained. “You are, according to the students, the sexiest professor in this school.”

“I feel like that’s a dubious honor, seeing as I’m also twice the age of most of the people rating me.” Flynn sat down in the chair next to them, which allowed Lucy to put her feet in his lap and brace on Wyatt to lean over and kiss his cheek.

“So long as it’s just for fun and daydreaming, I don’t see the harm in it,” she noted.

“I’ll keep my blissful ignorance, thanks,” Flynn replied dryly.

“I think some of the students might be catching onto our relationship,” Wyatt said.

“Well fucking on the desk doesn’t help,” Lucy said.

“You two are the ones fucking me on the desk! You are literally the perpetrators! Why are you looking at me like it’s somehow my fault?”

Rufus walked in, whistling quietly.

“Well,” Flynn said, “when you wear shirts with sexual innuendos and jeans that were spray-painted onto your ass I don’t know why you think we’re _not_ going to fuck you on your desk.”

Rufus abruptly stopped whistling, did a one eighty, and left the room.

“We could probably afford to be a little more subtle,” Lucy admitted. Then she paused, thinking.

Would it really be so bad if people knew? They’d been together for two months now. They were even talking about moving in together to give more space to other staff.

“Maybe… maybe we could make it public?” she suggested. “Not announcing it or anything. Just… stop hiding it.”

Flynn took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles. “I wouldn’t mind,” he said slowly. “If… if people knew, I’m not ashamed of it. And it’s been over ten years, not ten weeks, so I don’t think we’ll be getting outraged gossip about how quickly I moved on or anything.”

Wyatt snorted in amusement, then sobered up. “I’d be a hypocrite if I was ashamed of my poly multi-gender relationship, given all the yelling in class I’ve been doing about how that sort of thing’s okay.”

Lucy squeezed Flynn’s hand, then kissed Wyatt softly. “Then it’s settled. We’ll just be ourselves. And if people figure it out, they figure it out.”

The fond, dare she say besotted smiles of the two men looking at her was answer enough.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt was chatting with Jess as he walked down the path to the assembly hall. Mason had some long winded talk he was delivering. Again.

“How long did it take the staff to know?”

“About three days, Wyatt admitted. “Denise dragged us all into her office to lecture us and then made us visit HR, it was ridiculous.”

“But worth it?”

“Oh, so worth it.”

“So tell me,” Jess said, “have the students figured out it’s all three of you?”

“About half of them. The younger ones take longer, they think it’s some combination and then they wonder if one of us is cheating on the other and then it finally clicks,” Wyatt answered. He saw Rufus and waved, jogging to catch up with him. “Hey, you proposed to Amy yet?”

“No, dork, you have to help me pick out a ring when I visit for Christmas.”

“Great, start looking in yard sales, gotcha.”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

“Listen, I gotta go, we have some big school wide thing we’re attending. But I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sounds good. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Wyatt hung up and stuffed the phone in his pocket. “You’re fucking power walking today, man.”

“I have to save Jiya a seat, she’s coming back from a field trip,” Rufus explained. “And you managed to catch up with me anyway.”

“Yeah, been working out.” Sort of.

“Oh yeah?” Rufus eyed him. “I don’t see you in the gym in the morning.”

“That’s because at eight thirty every morning in the third-floor bathroom Flynn, Lucy, and I fuck in the handicap stall.”

“I’m sorry,” Rufus said. “Repeat that?”

Wyatt shrugged. “You have your morning workout and I have mine.”

Rufus shook his head. “The more I learn about your relationship the more I wish I didn’t know anything about it.”

 

* * *

 

Flynn woke up slowly, which had used to be unusual. He’d never quite gotten used to sleeping alone after Lorena had died, and had always jolted out of sleep, his heart pounding, like he had just realized he’d left the stove on or forgotten something vital at home after reaching the airport.

But lately he’d been taking his time waking up, like emerging from molasses, content and heavy-limbed and satisfied in that warm, purring chest sort of way.

Lucy was asleep still, her head nestled on his shoulder, one leg draped over his hip, her right hand tangled with his left.

Flynn heard the toilet flush in the bathroom and realized what had woken him up—Wyatt moving around.

A moment later the mattress dipped slightly, and Wyatt slid back into bed. “What time is it?” Flynn mumbled.

“Too early to get up on a Saturday during winter break,” Wyatt replied.

Flynn cracked his eyes open. Wyatt’s hair was sticking up all over, the blue of his eyes more prominent without glasses to hide behind, his neck sporting a dark purple mark from last night.

Lucy shifted slightly, murmuring, but didn’t wake up. Her hand tightened its hold on Flynn’s fingers.

His heart ached with how much he loved them. Lucy with her pure heart and passion, and Wyatt with his loud, brash personality.

Wyatt settled down on Flynn’s other side, letting Flynn wrap an arm around his back. “It’s snowing again,” he murmured. “Goddamn polar vortex.”

“Good thing we have nowhere to be, then,” Flynn replied.

Wyatt tucked his face into Flynn’s neck, and Flynn felt his hand sliding down to gently tangle in Lucy’s hair. “Mmm. Yeah. Garcia?”

“Yeah?”

“You fell in love with Lucy because of her videos.”

“Mm.”

“What was it for me?”

Flynn chuckled. “Your stupid twink outfits, Logan.”

“…I am not a twink.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’m _not_.”

Flynn tilted his face downward so that he could press a kiss into Wyatt’s hair. “Then I guess you’ll just have to keep wondering, won’t you?”

“I warn you.” Wyatt paused to yawn. “I’ll be sticking around until I find out.”

“Well in that case, I’m not letting you ever find out.”

Flynn wasn’t—he didn’t—he tried not to bring up concepts like ‘forever’ too much. He didn’t want to make Lucy, who’d once been engaged, and Wyatt, who’d been in a five-year relationship with the high school sweetheart he’d thought he’d marry, gun shy. But he did… he did think _forever_ in his heart when it came to the two of them. He really, really did.

He felt Wyatt press a soft kiss to where his pulse pounded sluggishly in his neck. “I’ll stick around anyway,” Wyatt whispered.

Flynn tightened his hold on Wyatt, on Lucy, the room suddenly misty. “Good.”

He didn’t think he’d fall back asleep, and it did take him a little while, but eventually he was pulled back under by the warm weight of the two people on top of him.

Until Lucy inevitably got up and panicked over submitting her dissertation again, anyway.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt walked into the living room where Lucy was reading a book and Flynn was grading papers. “You guys would still love me if I dyed my hair blue, right?”

Flynn dropped the papers. Lucy dropped the book.

“Honey,” she said slowly, “why would you dye your hair blue?”

Wyatt put his things down and walked over to join them. Flynn accommodatingly made room on his lap. Wyatt glared at him.

Flynn smirked.

Wyatt sat down on his lap.

“I told the kids if they all got 100% on their final that I’d dye my hair blue,” he explained. “Turns out that’s a hell of a motivator.”

Lucy tried to turn her laughter into a coughing fit but couldn’t quite manage it. “Oh, sweetheart, how do you get yourself into these things?”

“More importantly how did you survive long enough to be alive to meet us,” Flynn muttered, his arm settling around Wyatt’s waist as he picked up his papers again.

Wyatt sometimes wished that he had met Lucy and Flynn earlier in his life. That he’d had more time with them, so that Lucy wouldn’t have to deal with Noah and her mother and Flynn didn’t have to spend ten years lonely and alone.

But he had taken a long time to become the person he was meant to be. Even when he’d graduated college he’d still had a lot of growing to do. It had taken time to undo the first eighteen years of his life, all that he’d learned, and it was all worth the wait if it meant that now he was the kind of person that Lucy and Flynn could love, could spend the rest of their lives with.

“You did promise for better or for worse,” he pointed out.

Lucy laughed and Flynn buried his chuckle in Wyatt’s hair. “Fine, yes, we’ll still love you no matter what hair color you have. But get the temporary stuff that’ll wash out unless you really want to get called a twink.”

“For the last time, Garcia…”

“You’re fooling nobody, Wyatt.”

Lucy kissed them both. Dr. Lucy Preston, actually, as of two months ago. She didn’t say it, but he heard her thinking it: _my boys_.

Wyatt grinned, resting his head on Flynn’s shoulder. Yeah, it had taken a while. But he liked himself.

And he was happy.


End file.
